Breathing Again
by anzafire
Summary: What's the point of living forever if you spend it alone? Glinda is injured more than she let on during her final duel with Evanora. The story of her healing, learning to be Queen, and falling in love with the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. Oz/Glinda; multi-chapter, post-movie.
1. Chapter 1

**Breathing Again**

_Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again._

Panic.

The thumping in his heart was faster than any drum roll he could remember before a death-defying magic trick he'd performed. Sweat grew on his palms as he stared down at them — Theodora was gone, Evanora had run. What was this impending sense of doom suddenly about?

It wasn't until the monkey snapped some sense into him as he removed the phony mustache and rubbed the eyeliner off with his thumbs that Oz identified the source of his fear.

"Oz, I wouldn't dare tell you what to do after that fantastic display, but might you want to check on Glinda? She was after all, kidnapped, electrocuted, held hostage, and nearly killed in the past few hours. If nothing else, I'm sure she's experiencing a bit of post-traumatic—hey! You can't go out without a disguise on! Oz!"

Oz didn't listen as he charged from the city-saving machine, keeping his head down and plowed through the sea of people, all too transfixed on celebrating and hugging and sharing so fully in the joy of the human (or nonhuman, he wasn't sure) experience that he was slightly nauseated by the fact; when suddenly — a window broke and a disfigured lump fell, but not before it was picked up by two baboons — was it...Evanora? Barely having time to register the thought, Oz's eyes widened of their own accord when he heard a blood-curdling scream of pain coming from the very place the wickedest witch had just burst forth from.

He bit the inside of his lip before making his way as fast as he could to the source.

Glinda.

* * *

The pain had started at the first electrocution when she was picked up in the forest. While her entire body had quaked from the electricity of Evanora's wickedness, a small knot, twisted together of exceptionally sensitive nerves, had formed along her spinal column. The jostling of her body in flight, then the harsh tumble downwards when the witch's creatures dropped her only aggravated this particular place further. She wanted to press a hand against it, apply pressure, anything to relieve the burning, stinging sensation she felt.

As she was quickly chained up like a common criminal, Glinda found breathing difficult, her eyes were heavy and heart beating sporadically. Trying not to show weakness, she refused to let Evanora see the pain that was in her eyes as the madwoman ranted towards Glinda's beloved people. She winced, barely visible as the pain seemed to shoot up further.

When Evanora cast her evil magic for a second time, Glinda still refused to cry out. She could not be seen as defeated. She believed in the Wizard, even if he wasn't truly magical. He would save her. He had to.

His balloon fell. She actually gave up, for a brief moment, she gave up. But then...there he was. Oscar. The Wizard. The Great and Powerful Oz.

Her savior.

As the attention was drawn off her, Glinda had a moment to breathe, stifle a cry of anguish, and focus her energy on anything but the daunting throbbing and stinging sensation at her lower back. Something was terribly wrong, she knew, and even if she had her wand, she was no expert in the delicate magic of healing. She'd have to suffer until this was all over.

When the fireworks started and China Girl appeared, Glinda was relieved; she could be free of the shackles and the awful position she was in. Evanora was no longer in the surrounding area, though, and Glinda knew that there was no way the witch is leaving without taking something she thought was hers. Not giving her pain another thought, she transported China Girl to a safe study room within the palace, giving her precious, porcelain hero a quick hug before hurrying to the throne room.

She slowly eased herself into her father's chair, finally letting out a true gasp of agony. Letting her wand glow and focusing her energy off the pain and onto the area where it was, Glinda let a brief magical pulse out of her wand and felt a numbing relief wash over her.

As if on cue, Evanora charged into the King's room, not surprised to find the one good witch left sitting in the chair she felt was rightfully hers. Glinda kept calm, partially because she felt she had to in baiting Evanora, partially due to the numbness that was slowly creeping over her entire body, not just the sore spot on her back — healing magic was far past her scope of expertise.

When she flipped over the chair, Glinda thought for sure she was done. For a moment she let herself lay against the carpet, willing her body to simply shut down. For a moment, she didn't want her body to be able to stand. For a moment, she was ready to give up.

But in that same moment, Oscar's face pushed to the forefront of her mind. For a moment, she'd thought he was done for, too. But he wasn't.

And neither was she.

Her father would be proud of her, she thought as she stood, facing the woman who had dared to take his life from him all too soon. In a moment of pure adrenaline, she was ready to fight the wicked one who tried to ruin all the great king had stood for.

And no, she didn't need her bubbles. Not for this.

But then after the struggle of powerful magic, she was thrown backwards again, her sensitive back meeting in the same painful location along the edge of a stair. Spots appeared in front of her eyes and her world was black as her body rolled down the stairs.

When she came too, Glinda was barely able to lift her head. There was a new level of agony rolling through her. She could barely breathe or keep her eyes open as Evanora shrieked at her. As she opened her fist, she raised a brow at the broken necklace in her hand, her mind so slow to react given the traumatic injuries she'd received.

She could hardly stand, but she did, baffled and confused, mind reeling, back aching — something wasn't right, something wasn't right, something wasn't right — she moved closer to Evanora as the horrifying creature she'd become crawled across the floor. She leaned back in surprise as the woman attempted to attack again, and the pain that shot through her caused the magic to erupt out of her wand, sending the wicked witch back through the glass.

As Evanora was flown away by her baboons and the natural stress reactions began to rescind, she dropped her wand and fell forward, the pain completely washing over every sense, every nerve, every fiber of her body. Trying to process this, she resolved to handle the situation in the only way she knew how.

Letting out a blood-curdling scream, she let herself yell and yell as she tried to curl up in the pain, but only wound up causing even more of it along the curve of her lower spine.

It was only a minute before Finley swooped through the window, immediately at her side. "Glinda! What happened?"

"My back!" She screeched, crying fat tears that rolled down her red cheeks. She tried to explain how it felt, but her breath only came out in pants as she tried to grapple with the pain.

"I-I'll go find a healer! I'll be back as soon as I can! Oz is on his way, he'll be here in just minutes!"

Glinda let out another loud cry, her fingers twitching as she gripped at the floor, squeezing as hard as she could, trying to channel her pain into anything but her back.

As Finley promised, Oz rushed through the doors moments later, eyes wide as he caught sight of her misery. "Glinda," He whispered, falling to his knees next to her. "What is it?"

"My back," She managed to cry, "Something," She panted, "Something's not...it hurts—and—Ah!" She shook as she screeched.

"Okay, what...what do you want me to do? Do you want me to see what it looks like, or not touch it?"

"Look," She sobbed, "Something's not right, something's not right!"

Oz nodded, biting his lip. He was barely a barely passable carnival magician, let alone anything close to a doctor. Still, if he could tell her at least what it looked like, maybe she'd be more assured that she'd be alright and could calm down some. Gently, cautiously, he moved behind her shaking form, undoing the buttons that held her top together. His eyebrows knitted together at a strange, angry red pattern that he was starting to see the more skin he revealed. Finally, the whole top was opened and he unhooked the piece that held her skirt closed and carefully, carefully pulled it down, keeping in mind his purpose. "Damn, Glinda..." He whispered. rubbing a hand over his mouth and beard as he took in the sight before him. "It...it looks like...lightening? And...It's sort of purple down lower, Glinda, I-I don't know."

She let out another loud yell as a spasm ran through her back. Oz blinked quickly, completely lost as to what he could do. "Does...does it hurt anywhere else besides your back?"

"N-No!" She shrieked, her face turning into the ground as she wailed. At this, Oz stared for just a moment longer at the angry skin that was appearing to darken further down her spinal column. He shook his head for a moment before moving back to her other side where he took one of her hands from the floor.

"Squeeze my hand, Glinda, come on..."

She continued to shake and her breathing became more and more rapid. Oz let himself think back to the time his brother had fallen from the ladder and broken his ankle. He'd ran for his mother who cooed and regulated his oxygen until his father came with the the town doctor.

"Glinda, you have to slow your breathing, come on," he muttered, squeezing her hand. "Breathe with me, breathe with me." Her breath came in short pants and her eyes started to close for longer periods of time. "Hey, hey, hey." Oz rubbed her shoulder. "Don't you pass out on me, now...don't, come on...keep your eyes open, Glinda. Keep 'em open...the doctor is going to be here soon...Don't — don't you, — Glinda!" He shouted her name, squeezing her upper arm as carefully as he could to keep her awake.

Glinda took another shallow breath, her free hand trembling towards his. "Okay, okay...squeeze it if you want...talk to me, tell me how you feel—"

"I-I-I..." She tried to communicate but only ended up crying harder. This was such an extreme difference to the calm, collected Glinda who'd guided him over the past few days. As Oz held her hands and talked to her in attempt to keep her mind off the radiating pain, it seemed like hours before Finley flew in at top speed, next to Oz with his eyes wide.

"There's a healer on the way, Glinda. Hang in there. I found two of them in the square, I don't know how good or qualified they are but—"

"Thank you, Finley," Oz nodded, pressing a hand against Glinda's hair, stroking around her face, having removed her crown a few moments before. Her breathing was more even now, smoother. "Glinda...it's okay...they're on their way."

"Oz," Finley cleared his throat. "I don't mean to stand to tell you what to do, but, you're dead now...so I think...maybe you should—"

Glinda looked up through heavy eyes, the fire that had been in them for the few days he'd known her was gone. "Oscar..."

He shook his head at Finley, "No, no, I'm not leaving her. Not now."

"But Oz, you're dead!"

"I know, I know. I'll...just let someone else in on the secret. I don't care. I'm not leaving her, not like this."

A shaky, forced smile appeared on Glinda's lips for only the briefest of minutes as she squeezed Oz's hand again. He squeezed back. _I'm not leaving._

Only a few minutes later, two men came barreling into the room, one carrying a bag of medical supplies. They were at her side immediately, not even concerned with Oz's presence as they both examined her, questioning what happened, Glinda unable to retell the tale in her exasperation. The one doctor prepared a needle with a bit of solution that he muttered would dull the pain and likely cause her to fall asleep within minutes as they examined her.

"It would appear that there is a fractured vertebrae here, judging from the bruising and location that is the cause of the pain...but I think...this...red, scar-looking...I think this is from Evanora's lightning strike. I don't know what we can do about that."

The two men conversed as Glinda's eyelids fell closed, but not before she cast a longing look into Oz's face, begging him with her expression to do anything he could to aid in whatever recovery methods the healers were going to use. He nodded, pressing his hand against her hair again as she gave into the medication and her face burrowed further into the stone floor. Finley sat on Oz's shoulder, nudging him. "I think we need to figure a way to communicate with the people in the city to let them know you are still around, in spirit, and that Glinda will be bringing them news in a few days. I can have Knuck see to it, if you think that would be best?"

"Mm," He nodded. "Spread the word, Finley. I'm going to stay with her."

* * *

After much discussion, the healers decided to perform the best they could with a light, magical bone-healing session. They did inform Oz, whom they swore their silence in his identity to, that she'd require much more intense healing from someone more capable than they. When he questioned who had such power, the two had only smirked and said they were sure Glinda would be able to answer that when she awoke. They left and returned, fitting her with a brace to support her back and keep her comfortable until she could receive more intense treatments, and provided healing ointment for her strangely-shaped scars, promising that though the lines would likely never permanently go away, they should at least fade with the salve. They also left several solutions of pain medication and promised they'd be within ten minutes' call if her condition would worsen.

The morning passed by in a blur as Oz spent it conferring with Knuck in delivering messages to different groups of people and instructing his Master Tinker where he'd like his machine to be set up in the throne room.

It was well into the afternoon when Glinda began to slip out of the anesthetic, waking in a fitful state of tears and confusion. Oz was at her side, clutching one of her palms and keeping the other hand on her upper shoulders to prevent her back from arching up in pain as she lay on her stomach. "Easy, easy..." He let her cognition come back to full processing speeds before attempting to explain what happened. When her muffled tears stopped and she blinked up at him with a sense of herself, he nodded down at her before kneeling to meet her gaze. "The healers found a fracture in your lower back. That's what is causing most of the pain. They did a light, magical healing session to begin to mend the bone. They also fitted you with a brace to keep the spine as straight as possible while it heals. They said that the scaring that's spread down your back is from Evanora's magical strikes against you. They shouldn't be causing too much pain, but they're likely never going to disappear. They gave you this..." He held up the jar, "To help them fade and stay at the surface level."

Glinda blinked as she slowly digested the information. "Are...Are they going to...do more magical sessions?"

Oz shrugged. "They can, but they said they wouldn't be very effective...but mentioned that you might know somebody who could help do a full healing?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "She won't help me," The good witch sighed. "She hasn't been interested in me in a long, long time."

"Who?" The wizard asked, a hand running through her blonde curls.

"The witch of the North. She's very, very old. Centuries old, actually." Glinda groaned as a wave of pain overcame her. "She...she tried to mentor me, when I was younger. But...she didn't have the patience in working with a child. She was also against some of my father's more liberal policies, such as equality for all creatures — not just human subtypes. She's very traditional. I doubt she'd help me."

With a heavy sigh that was followed by another moan in pain, Glinda reached forward, wrapping an arm around Oz's bicep, rubbing mindlessly. "I need to go see the people, though. They need to hear from me that they are free."

"While I agree with that," He said in his gentlest tone, "I think you need to take care of yourself first. I have been running interference with Knuck and some of the Tinkers all afternoon. The people are rejoicing and celebrating. I have most of the Winkie guards already in custody, with the Quadlings rounding up the last of them. The people will make it through this first night. You must rest, Glinda. Tomorrow, I will do whatever I can to help you into the city."

"But the people think you're dead," She whispered, clutching harder on him. "You can't be seen."

"I know," He smiled brightly, "I know I'm dead, but that doesn't mean I can't support you in anyway I can. The Master Tinker is currently assembling a praxinoscope in the throne room. Oz may be dead, but Oscar will be here for you in anyway possible."

Glinda couldn't help the lone tear that trickled down her cheek as she whispered her thanks while Oz offered to cover her scars with the ointment. She allowed a tiny nod and he slowly pulled a white sheet down over her shoulders, where she realized she was wearing nothing in front of the wizard. She gave a little squeak an buried herself as close to the mattress as possible, forcing him to chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm not peaking."

Her face was on fire with embarrassment as she wondered how much of her he'd seen while she was out of it. But as his hands used caution to rub the salve into her skin against the strangely shaped scars, she decided that most of her really didn't care what he did, so long as he kept doing _that_ against her sore shoulders, tender from the electric shock. "Oscar," She sighed his name lightly.

Oz couldn't help the smirk that had covered his face while he finished rubbing the solution in, but continued his ministrations on her shoulders. "I'm going to give you some more of that medication that they gave you earlier. You need to rest, and it'll help you stay out of pain and asleep." Without waiting for her permission, he dabbed a bit of alcohol onto a cloth and rubbed her shoulder with it before injecting the anesthetic into her. "Close your eyes, Glinda...when you wake up, it'll be morning." She didn't need to be told twice as the medicine had an immediate effect. "Sweet dreams," Oz whispered, pulling the sheet back up and over her shoulders.

* * *

The healers came back when she woke next, forcing her through a battery of assessments to determine the course of treatment as Glinda demanded no contact was to be made with the witch of the North unless she could see her in person. The two good witches were long overdue for a discussion, anyhow.

When morning came again, Glinda felt she was comfortable enough to take care of political business, fitted firmly with a back brace and relatively in a state of euphoria from the pain-killing narcotics, though she'd had the healers tapper down the dosage so she could function as the people of Oz's official representative.

She slowly made her way down the hallways of the Emerald City palace, thankful to be home in them once again. She sent a rowdy bunch of munchkin girls throughout the city, instructing them to round up as many people by daybreak as they could for a message from the Wizard.

The witch lowered herself carefully to the steps of the palace, content with the children and others who began to collect themselves around her, basking in her presence, none-the-wiser that she was in extra-ordinate amounts of pain, but pushing through it all for their sake.

"I have here a missive from the great Wizard of Oz," She'd stated when there was finally a full crowd around the palace steps as the sun rose over the East. She read Oz's message, the smile on her face uncontainable. The people cheered and she kept herself settled, letting people come to her for handshakes, gently refusing hugs from the children who offered them, stating she was a 'little sore' from her battle with the witches.

Finding a good Quadling to assist her up without straining herself and lead her up the stairs. She thanked him for his help and found her way back to the Throne room, where she entered with a wide smirk and twinkling eyes at Oz's great machine.

Glinda couldn't contain herself when her wizard essentially claimed her as China Girl's mother, and she carefully bent down to allow the porcelain child to climb into her lap. When Oz pulled her behind the curtain and she informed him that he'd surprised not only her, but himself as well, as he was truly a good man. He kissed her passionately, her first true kiss from someone she could consider a lover, and she couldn't help the pop of her foodt — overly romantic, though she never thought she would be — as his lips captured her completely in desire with him.

* * *

He led her through the halls as they plotted just how he was going to function as a dead wizard. They thought of excuses, surnames — something that would allow him to be with her as she traveled from land to land, dealing with problems caused by Evanora's reign of terror. For the most part, he knew, he'd have to remain in the Emerald City, available should the people of Oz need to speak with "him."

"What say you a few more days of resting before we head to the witch of the North's castle?" He suggested as she eased herself into a chair in one of the studies in the high chambers. She rested her eyes and sighed, not ready to think of the awkwardness that would ensue when she had to ask the woman who'd hit her over the head with magical scrolls time and again for her imperfection to heal her wounded body.

"Locasta isn't the most compassionate, Oscar. While she's somewhat a great-aunt of mine, her ties with my family have always been strained, given that she married into royalty as a second wife...and...She was always threatened by other witches. She wanted to train me herself so she could minimize my abilities, keep me in line. Originally, when she first became ruler of the Gillikin Country, she banned the practice of magic by anyone other than herself. My father overturned that, however, and things have been tense ever sense."

Oz pondered this as he paced in front of a small window. "And I can't imagine what she'll have to say for herself when she discovers that you're not a real wizard — ah!" Glinda pressed a hand to her back as it spasmed and Oz was at her side in a moment. "It's alright," She said in a mutter, blinking her eyes rapidly to avoid the tears of pain that threatened to spill.

"The healers said this won't stop for a long time if you don't get treated by—"

"I know!" Glinda's patience was lost for a moment as she leaned her head back and breathed deeply. "I know, I'm sorry, I...I don't want to grovel at her feet and beg her to take care of me is all. It's a pride thing, and I know that's stupid and selfish, but that's how I feel and I can't change that."

Oz knelt in front of her and took her hands, squeezing them as he had when the whole fiasco began. "That's completely understandable. But watching you like this makes me want to do anything I can to help you. And unfortunately, all that there is to be done is with Locasta."

Glinda sniffed, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. "When I last saw her, it was...probably three years ago, now, it was shortly after my father's death. I begged of her to help me defeat Evanora, take the city back...but...she refused. She said that she was in no condition to fight and no position to play politics. She asked me to leave her castle and not come back unless I had a reasonable plan."

"I'd say this is pretty reasonable," He jested, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on her cheek. "Come on, show me where she is on a map of Oz."

They spent the afternoon working on a hierarchy of Quadlings, Tinkers, Munchkins, and people of the Emerald City that they felt were capable of leadership roles under whatever restructuring they could come up with. Plans were drawn, notes were taken, and eventually, Glinda agreed to leaving in three days time for a journey to the Northern Gillikin country.

* * *

Traveling was proving more exhausting on Glinda than Oz had anticipated. Though they were moving by carriage, the bumpy road was causing her just as much grief as walking probably would have.

They stopped frequently, and as the second nightfall began to greet them, the two decided Glinda was ready for a proper rest, even though the Castle was only a few more hours' journey.

Oz held his hand out as Glinda carefully stepped down from the carriage. They moved a bit up the road, releasing the horses and leading them to a stream near the road. As they drank, Glinda kept her hand wrapped around Oz's upper arm, resting her head against his shoulder. He stole a glance down, noting how her eyes were glazed over, not just because she was tired, but because of the great pain she was attempting to mask. "Scale of one to ten?" He questioned softly, pulling her off his arm so he could wrap it gently around her and draw her face to his chest.

She was becoming used to the question and held up both hands to indicate a six. He swallowed hard when she burrowed her face into his white shirt, obviously trying not to cry.

Letting the horses drink for a few moments longer, he returned them towards the carriage, tying them to a nearby fence post and allowing them plenty of lead to walk around or remain still if they wished.

Oz opened the back door of their carriage, revealing a low mattress with blankets and pillows; along with several bags packed of casual clothes for Glinda to wear while recovering from magical surgery.

She caught sight of the makeshift bed and wanted to dive forward into it, but allowed herself to be fussed over as Oz carefully lowered her to the plush surface, then made work of removing her shoes. "Do you want me to put the lotion on your back?" He asked as he rubbed a smooth leg, waiting for a response.

Glinda nodded and slowly rolled herself over with a sigh, more than willing to be pampered. Oz's fingers made quick work of the buttons holding her dress together, getting far too good at undressing her, considering their relationship was hardly official and they'd barely known one another for two weeks. Yet, he kept it innocent, never letting his fingers wander inappropriately or eyes dart to places she wasn't ready for him to see.

He unlaced her back brace before shimming the rest of the fabric of her dress off, then dropped a bit of salve into his palm before rubbing her back and earning a satisfied groan. The flesh where she'd been electrocuted was still warm to the touch, and he could hardly fathom the sensation that crept all the way up her shoulders, on top of the fracture. She wasn't a whiner, though, she was truly a fighter. He supposed she likely always had been.

When he was finished, he laced the brace back up and tugged the zipper to close, but found a hand stopping him. Glinda tilted her head back with a pouty smile, indicating she wanted something. "Do you want me to keep rubbing?" She nodded and snuggled her cheek back into the pillow and he couldn't help the grin that overcame him as he lay down next to her, propping his head up with his elbow and wrist while his other hand drew gentle circles across her shoulders.

She couldn't control the little moans that escaped as her eyes flickered closed and Oz dropped a kiss to her forehead. "My father used to get me to sleep like this," She whispered, another sigh drifting between her lips. "He'd read to me then rub my back while singing. I was dreaming in minutes."

"Oh, you don't want me to sing to you," Oz chuckled. "It's a scary sound."

Glinda opened her eyes and let her face pout again. "Surely not," She insisted, bringing a hand up from her side to stroke his cheek.

"I'm not singing," He responded, shaking his head.

"Please, Oscar?" She begged, tipping her head up to press a kiss to his lips. "Just one little song? A refrain? A stanza—"

He laughed again and stopped rubbing her back for a moment to scratch at his head. "Well, what would you want me to sing to you?" His hand returned to slow circles as she shrugged.

"Something that is popular in Kansas," She answered, fingers moving to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, goodness," He groaned, rolling his eyes for a minute. "Fine, alright...I'm a carnival magician back home, you know? Well, people think that we're the same as a fair, which, we're sort of are, anyway...when they come into see us perform, they think it's funny to sing a song about meeting at the fair— anyway..." He took a breath before starting off the first verse, earning a dazzling smile of approval from Glinda. "_When Louis came home to the flat, he hung up his coat and his hat. he gazed all around, but no wifey he found, so he said, where can Flossie be at_?"

She was gleaming as he continued and into the chorus, "_We will dance the Hoochie-Koochie, I will be your Tootsie-Wootsie. If you will meet me in St. Louis, Louis, meet me at the Fair_."

Glinda brought her hands together from being tucked under her chest to clap, cheering with giggles. "That was lovely, Oscar. Don't you ever tell me you can't sing again."

He rolled his eyes once more before pulling a blanket over them and moving a little closer to Glinda, his own eyes drawing heavy as he let himself give into the comfort of the pillows. "Goodnight, Glinda," he murmured, leaving a supportive hand against her back, just above the brace, as they both drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Glinda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, about to ring the bell of Locasta's castle when the gate opened of its own accord. She glanced at Oz and he shrugged, "Magic?"

She rolled her eyes and took his hand, cautiously leading them up a staircase and through several walkways.

"Took you two damn near long enough to get here, I've been ready for a whole day!" A snarly voice came from the top of a stair, and suddenly, the owner of the voice was in front of both Oz and Glinda. A woman no taller than Oz's bellybutton stood hunched over, a cane keeping her supported.

Glinda curtseyed and Oz remembered her instruction to bow at the sight of this peculiar, ancient witch who gave a cackle before slapping his shoulder. "The _Great_ and _Powerful_ Oz, graciously bestowing his presence onto me, a mere witch, ahaha!" She snorted, swatting his ankle with her cane, earning a baffled expression from Oz, forcing her to laugh again. "Oh, please, you great phony, as if I haven't been watching you from the moment you blew into town. Quite the display, quite the display. I'm surprised you were able to trick Evanora so easy. But, I suppose that greedy witch was only thinking of herself; what else is new. Come, come, follow me, Glinda, we'll discuss the matter of your injury once we find something for this great oaf to keep himself busy with while I operate my magic on you. Hope you brought something to knock yourself out cold, it's going to hurt like a bitch! Hehe!"

She turned and Oz gave Glinda a wide-eyed look, to which she responded with one that could only scream _I warmed you_. He shook his head, completely marveled at a whole new set of ridiculous to sort out in his all-too-mortal mind.

They were taken through a series of hallways and chambers by the grey-haired witch until they arrived in some sort of parlor, where Locasta had already set up a hospital-esque bed. "Sit, sit, both of you, now. There's tea on the table, help yourselves," They were steered to a sofa, where they promptly sat, Oz pouring Glinda a cup before one for himself. "Now, Glinda, dear, the war is over, you're shacking up with the wizard, and Oz is yours to repair and restructure. But quite frankly, your displays of magic over the course of this war have been mediocre at best. You were lucky with Evanora, had you not broken her medallion, she'd have killed you and taken the land form this intellectual being."

Oz nearly choked, this woman was more senile then his grandmother. "So, Glinda, I'll fix up your back. But, you are going to stay here for a month — now, now," She tutted as Glinda made way to object, "I've got it all taken care of in the Emerald City, worry not, you hasty thing. Goodness." The elderly woman leaned over her cane, her beady blue eyes sinking into Glinda's dark ones. "You need to improve your magic, hone your skills. Then, _then_, you will be prepared to truly help the people of this great land. I really need about three years to teach you proper, but I don't have that much time left and I know you won't give me any more than this."

As the fifth spasm in an hour ran up her spine, Glinda couldn't help but accept the woman's offer, making a magical agreement by letting a stream of light from her wand work through a light from Locasta's wand. "Now, as for you, wonderful Wizard," She laughed again, completely unable to take herself seriously. "You'll stay here. I've got to work on raising you as a leader, too." She clapped her hands and poured herself a cup of tea. "We'll begin the healing process after lunch. It takes about three hours the first time, then I need the both of us to rest for about a day before I can finish up. Don't worry, you'll be good as new when I'm through."

Oz glanced around the room as the witch continued to babble about the magical procedure. He laid eyes on a crystal ball, assuming that it had been her method for observing them.

Throughout this, Glinda had not spoken a single word since their arrival, and Oz could tell she was bursting with frustration. When Locasta left the room to prepare ingredients she'd need for the healing spell, Glinda let out a loud breath and tears simultaneously. "I hate her," She whispered under her breath. "I don't hate much, Oscar, but I hate her. I hate that I need her, and I hate thinking about what her magic might do to me."

He pulled her into a loose hug, wiping her tears before Locasta could return. "Don't let her see this, okay? Stay strong. It's not going to be for long. And I'll be here, the whole time. I'll watch over you while she repairs your back."

She took a breath and nodded. She was stronger than this. She'd survived the pain for this long, her father's death, a broken kingdom — she could make it through a month of the witch's deal.

* * *

Glinda lay on her stomach, her face pressed against a pillow and just a sheet covering her derrière on down. Oz sat next to her, a comforting hand over hers as they waited for the sedative to kick in, his eyes dancing across her marred back. He hoped that Locasta would be able to remove the scarring, too.

As Glinda fell asleep, the other witch gave a little chuckle and pulled up a chair next to Oz. "You said that should last six hours?" He nodded. "Good, because the magic won't take more than two. I need to have a talk with you, _Wizard_."

He gulped, not prepared to be reamed out by this terrifying 'good' witch before him. However, her voice took on a new tone and her facial features relaxed, and suddenly, she wasn't as scary. "I've been watching you since you were about sixteen years old. I, unfortunately, have been blessed and cursed with visions. I knew you would be the savior that Oz would receive. That's why I would never help Glinda; I knew there was a better way of freeing the people of Oz without a magical war that we would have inevitably have lost. I was serious earlier. Her magic has great potential. But she has done very little to unlock it.

"When she was younger, Glinda's father, the great King of Oz, brought her to me in attempt to learn." The witch rolled her bright blue eyes. "She was a mess. A true, magical mess. Completely out of control. She was only ten, and had recently lost her mother, so I knew it would be hard to teach her. She had little patience for me, and I her. She was slow to pick up, and lazy with practicing. Not a lick of discipline in her. Her father had treated her as a princess, not a witch, and she suffered because of it. I sent her away after six months of intensive magic lessons. When she came to me later, as a teenager, I tried again, but she was so hormonally-challenged that everything was a constant explosion. She was almost as difficult as Theodora to train."

Oz raised a brow. "You trained Theodora?"

"No." Locasta shook her head. "I tried, but she was hopeless, not only in attitude, but intellect. She was not capable, whereas Glinda was simply undisciplined and experiencing a series of life-complications. She has fantastic potential. Theodora's new mess, however, created by her sister, is truly going to wreak havoc on our land someday." She took a great breath of air. "But that is sometime away, I believe, as my visions have been telling me. This is why I want Glinda to train, now. She is finally mature enough to learn properly, to master the magic she has been blessed with. I wanted to teach her when she came to me three years ago, but she was such an emotional disaster that I feared for my life that training her would kill one of us then. But with you here, as support, and her success in the Emerald City to prompt her, I know she can do it."

Oz gave a little smile while the older woman ranted a bit more, "As for you, though, Oscar. May I call you Oscar?" He shrugged, indifferent. "You have been something of a cheat and a scoundrel since you got your first grope of a woman. You've let countless down, left many brokenhearted, and more bitter. How can I guarantee that you won't leave my Glinda the same way?"

_Her_ Glinda? He grinned again. His royal partner was so-off about this woman's intentions. "I-I don't know, to be honest...There's just a feeling...I thought that I had felt it once before—"

"With Annie Ghale," Locasta nodded. "The rare beauty of Kansas."

Indeed. "But...this is...this is different, I can't explain it. Not yet. I need more time with her to truly understand it all. But...something tells me, this...this is what love is? I don't know. I hope so, though." He rubbed a hand along Glinda's bare back. "I really hope so."

* * *

They talked on about his future as the Great and Powerful Wizard, how he would delegate and care for those now in his charge.

She soon took her position over Glinda, prepared to mend bones and relieve pain. When Oz asked if she could remove the scars, the Witch of the North responded, "I can. But I won't. Glinda needs a reminder of where she was and how she got here. They will serve that purpose beautifully."

He observed as light was direct from her wand and over Glinda's spinal column. He was silent as she chanted and muttered, sweat pouring from her grey hairline as she exhausted her magic for the better portion of two hours. Oz was in awe as she finished, ready to replenish both magical and physical energy. She excused herself after instructing Oz to wait for Glinda to awaken and help her to move carefully to a regular bed in the chambers she'd given them permission to use prior.

Sitting for another hour and a half, Oz read through an old book on projecting magical spells into healing others, realizing just how complicated the magic the ancient witch used truly was. When Glinda finally stirred, he was at her side immediately, pushing messy blonde locks behind her ears. "Welcome back."

She blinked, surprised to find her pain was mostly gone. "Land of the living," She nodded, stretching an arm with great joy to find it didn't pull down her spine. "Feels great."

Oz broke into a smirk. "It'll be one more session before it's perfect, but Locasta said it was healing as she had hoped it would. She suggested we make for a more comfortable bed for the night, though."

Glinda didn't argue with that as she took a robe that he offered and turned to give her a moment to tie it decent, then she allowed him to pull her to her feet. She wrapped a trademark hand around his bicep as they made their way down the hallway to their guest chambers. She gave him her signature suspicious yet adoring look when she noticed his demeanor was perkier than it had been. "What's got you all excited?"

"Nothing." He looked down at her as her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "I'm just looking forward to spending the next month watching you grow as a witch."

Glinda rolled her eyes, not believing him for a moment. Though, it was true. Oz was indeed ready to spend the next month by her side, giving support in anyway he could. They stepped into the bedroom that he decided they'd be sharing. Though Locasta gave them two, he'd spent the last few nights snuggled next to the rightful ruler of Oz and he didn't think he'd like to change that now.

She excused herself to the washroom and Oz took the moment to turn the covers down on the wide bed they would share, fluffing the pillows and changing into a pair of sleep pants he had brought and removing his outer-shirt. Glinda emerged, still a breathtaking sight despite having been through surgery just hours earlier. She smiled and raised a sheepish shoulder in his direction before sliding into the bed. He extinguished a light on the night table, scooting closer to her. She turned her entire body towards him, feeling free to do so now that she was not locked in the same position as the previous few nights.

Aside from being curled up at the end of her father's bed when she had nightmares, or the past few days of care-taking, Glinda had never shared a bed with a man. While she wasn't sure of the protocol, she felt completely comfortable in Oz's presence. "Hi, Glinda," He said with that dazzling smile.

She gave a cheeky one back, putting a hand on his side and moving a leg up in between his where it seemed to fit naturally. "On your first night without the back-brace?" He teased, kissing her forehead. "I don't want to strain you." She flushed and her eyes darted to his chest instead of his face, that hadn't been her intention— "I'm only teasing." She looked back up, smiling again and tilting her chin upwards to meet his lips in a sweet kiss, giving a tiny nip against his bottom one to show she could be a little frisky if she wanted. He smirked again, giving a little growl and wrapping both arms around her waist, pulling her close in a tight hug. She moved her hands up to his neck, embracing him back with just as much enthusiasm.

* * *

Author's Notes:

1) I don't know how this became a seven-thousand word first chapter in a multi-chapter saga. It was just a respond to an anonymous prompt on tumblr. It completely got away from me. The other Oscinda story I published, _Unbreakable_, was originally going to be multi-chapter, but I am closing that one as complete and going to focus on this one instead, for now. _Unbreakable_ might get picked back up in the future.

2) Locasta is LFB's name for the Good Witch of the North in his stage-adapted version. Since she has had so many variations over the years and the newest movie didn't touch on her, I figured she'd be a safe character to adapt for the sake of this story. She will be further developed, fear not. I will be incorporating as much of LFB's original characters and story lines as possible into this. It's a lot of research, because I never finished the entire series, nor have I touched the actual LFB books since 2002. I intend on rereading/reading them starting in May, but I wanted to start this well before that.

3) Updates will be as often as possible! I don't like to publish chapters that are less than 5,000 words. I don't think it's fair to the reader or to the character/plot development. of the story to have anything less. Therefore, they take me a bit of time, especially with editing. As this chapter is published, I have four weeks left of class and then some significant time off before summer class and work, so I hope to do as much as I can in the limited time I have! Your support, however, is always appreciated. **Any feedback, constructive or otherwise, is valued**. Thank you for reading, I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Two  
**_Never give up. No one knows what's going to happen next._

_Steady hands held tiny ones as an encouraging whisper told her to "keep on, you can do it, little love." Bare feet made their unsteady move across stone flooring, wobbly steps, an uneven balance — she was back on her bottom. A loud cry escaped her plump, pink limps and in an instant, she was lifted into a warm embrace. The King of Oz snuggled his princess, shushing her, rocking her, reminding his little Glinda that she was capable of great things, but great things take time._

_He opened a stained-glass door that led from his royal chambers to a small balcony, instructing his daughter to look over the horizon. The sun was setting and she turned her head, curly blonde locks tumbling, to look on at it. She reached out a hand at the glowing orb in the sky, her tears forgotten and smile back against her chubby cheeks. _

"_Someday, little love, you'll have this whole kingdom to care for. You'll have to work very hard and be very committed to mastering your magic." The King's hand rubbed against her back and Glinda nestled her face into his neck as he began to sing for her. When the final refrain had ended, she was asleep, and he gave a little sigh of contentment. "Someday, little love, you'll master your magic, but for today, darling, sleep. Tomorrow will rise with the sun and we will try to walk again."_

"Your father always coddled you, doted on you, let you get away with anything! But not I! Miss Glinda, you are going to sweat, you can cry all you want and lose your temper, but this time, Daddy will not be coming to pick you up because it's too hard! This time, you're going to figure it out."

Locasta rambled on about the former King of Oz's poor parenting skills, and Glinda barely paid her attention. She stared with her arms crossed out the window, memories of her father plaguing her the more the Witch of the North rattled off ways in which he was a failure. Her father was not a failure. He was anything but.

"...And really, are you even listening to me?" Glinda turned her focus to the small witch in front of her. It was hard to believe Locasta was a good witch. Glinda sighed, sitting up straight in her seat, ready to pay attention. "Now, dear, let's start with a relocation spell, shall we?"

Glinda raised a brow. Too easy. What was the point of such simple magic? She raised her wand and moved a book book of spells from the sofa next to her to Locasta's lap. The older woman gave her a pointed look. "Good. At least you've made progress from your teenage years, regardless of improper training." She cleared her throat and Glinda clutched her fingertips to her knees. "Today, we are going to start moving living creatures. By the end of our time together, you are not only going to be able to relocate others, but yourself."

Feeling doubtful that she'd be able to accomplish that much in a month along with Locasta's lofty set of goals, Glinda went along with the motions of the morning training session, looking forward to lunch free of the batty witch.

* * *

"Damn," Oz hissed as he jammed his thumb under a hammer, shaking it to relieve the pain. Locasta had him working on repairs around the castle. He didn't mind, but he'd been hoping to spend his days with Glinda, watching her learn real magic.

"Hurry!" A voice called, and Glinda ran past him, a wide smile on her face as she threw her head over her shoulder. "We've got a whole hour to ourselves, let's go!"

Oz threw his head back in laughter. Glinda was not only back physically as she was pain free, but he was fairly sure her time at the North castle was causing her to regress mentally as well.

He chased her down the narrow hallway, closing both arms around her waist and earning a laugh as she panted against him, struggling to be let down. Her peach-hued dress was knee length and simple, as Locasta had insisted — _none of that frufru princess nonsense! This is magic! _— and he enjoyed the way her relaxed clothing changed her intensity.

No longer in pain or fearing for the state of her kingdom, Glinda was slightly more carefree, though she did not lose the sense of regality around her. Her neck was still straight and chin kept high — she was in charge, for sure. But she was also still in knowing that her people were safe and her spine was in line once more.

She tried not to screech as his fingers dug into her sides to tickle her. She squirmed away, breathing heavily, her eyes light with playfulness he hadn't seen. "Are we really going to play chase, oh Wizard? Hm?" He grinned and wrapped a gentle arm around her neck, pulling her to him so he could press a kiss to the top of her head. Oz liked it when she wasn't wearing the crown. Though he supposed it was part of her identity, he liked her more natural. "How shall we spend our hour out of captivity?"

"Now that's a touch dramatic, don't you think?" He asked, leading them down the hall.

Glinda rolled her eyes, pulling out of his side-embrace and tugging at his arm. "You don't know all she thinks I can accomplish in a month! This magic takes years to learn and decades to master! She's completely lost her mind in her six hundredth year."

Oz choked. "Six _hundred_? Damn she looks good for six hundred."

Glinda gave him a look. "Do you have idea any how old I am?"

He blinked rapidly, an awkward smile washing over him. "Excuse me?"

Her teeth pressed against her lower lip. "Two hundred and sixty-four," She whispered.

Oz actually jumped back, knitting his eyebrows together in surprise and his hands flew in front of his chest. "H-how? What—you're, not!"

Glinda giggled and took his hands from their flailing state. "I'm only kidding. I've only been around for thirty-one years. By far younger than Evanora, though Theodora's only a few months my younger." She laughed again at his relieved expression. "And how old are you, oh great Wizard?"

"Twenty-four," He stated, still reeling from her joke. "So that still makes you a little old lady—ouch!" She pinched him, unable to control the smile that seemed to be permanently plastered to her face whenever Oz was around.

"Respect your elders," She instructed, leading them onward down the steps and into a garden, where two young Gilliken women greeted them with a courtesy.

"Lunch has been prepared, Lady Glinda!" The one on the left said, bouncing on her toes. "If there's anything else we can get for you, we will be inside."

Glinda gave them a little bow. "Thank you for your kindness, ladies." The two exited and Glinda tugged Oz to a small table with two chairs, white wicker, with a decadent looking meal prepared in the center of the table.

Oz waited for Glinda to sit first, gently tucking her chair in, earning another grin.

"This is fantastic," He muttered, digging into the meal. Though he'd been in the land of Oz for nearly three weeks, the business of taking care of an injured Glinda and saving an entire people had taken precedence over the splendor the world had to offer. But now that he had the opportunity to truly enjoy some of it, he couldn't have been more glad his balloon had blown him into town. "I spent way too many years eating dusty, stale carnival food."

Glinda took tiny bites as she ate, a high contrast to the great and powerful shovel that Oz's arm had become. She couldn't help smirking while she swirled a glass of wine before sipping at it. "How long were you a magician?" She questioned, ready to learn more of her partner's backstory. While they'd talked plenty about the future of their land and magic and schemes for keeping his identity under wraps, she still felt she knew so little about him.

Oz took a drink before rubbing his hands together and letting out a sigh. "I guess thirteen, fourteen years? My father had a farm and my older brothers were working the land, already miserable and they'd barely just begun their lives. I'd gone to school and really hoped to leave Kansas and be accepted at a University on the East side of the country. But, our little one-room school house didn't have much to offer outside of learning to read, write, and basic arithmetic. I took up reading on my own, but books are painfully expensive and being farmers..." He poked around at a piece of meat. "Then one afternoon, after my uncle had passed away, we were cleaning out some of his things from his house, that was right next door to mine. That's when I found the _Mastering Magic_ book. I was so intrigued by it that I spent the next three days hulled up in my room, faking a fever so I could read it cover-to-cover multiple times. I started collecting things from around the house I could use to practice, and then one afternoon, I skipped out on school after lunch and went into the town square, where I stood on a street corner with an old hat to collect coins in while I performed magic."

"_Hear ye, hear ye!" Little Oscar Diggs called out, clapping his hands together on the side of a dusty Kansas road. Passerby's looked on in amusement as the eleven-year-old boy took on a dramatic flair. "Prepare to be astounded and amazed, at the greatest and most powerful magician in all of Kansas!" An elderly man placed a penny in the boy's hat and raised a brow for him to perform. "Thank you, kind sir! For my first trick," He started, pulling a handkerchief out of the pocket of his tattered button-down shirt, "I shall make a bouquet of pansies appear from within this simple 'kerchief!" He took a deep breath, beady brown eyes narrowed in deep concentration. "Zim-za-ba-zim!" With a snap, a paper stack of folded flowers was wiped out of the cloth and the old man clapped. "Thank you, you're a great audience!"_

_Slowly, a tiny crowd of the elderly man, a mother with her two small children, and a butcher had gathered and Oz was in the glory of his life performing the four basic tricks he had mastered. Different folks walked passed him throughout the afternoon, and by the end of what should have been the school day, he'd totaled thirty-seven cents — more money than he'd ever owned in his life._

"I was determined to save up enough money to get more 'real' magic tools, rings, powders, anything that would be of higher quality than I could scrounge around the house. I thought that if I made enough money performing, by the time I would want to attend University, I'd be able to afford to go."

Glinda's eyes twinkled as he told his tale. "You must have been so proud of yourself. That's hard work, for a little guy."

Oz laughed a little bitterly. "Yeah...well, I had eventually saved four dollars. That's quiet a decent amount where I'm from." He took a final gulp of wine and continued telling the story, "My third oldest brother had to make a trip upstate with our carriage to deliver goods. I snuck under the blankets in the back and laid still until he'd stopped to rest for the night." He gave another laugh, rubbing his forehead. "He hit me so hard once he realized I was back there."

"_Goddamnit, Oscar! You realize your mother is going to have your head!" The third oldest Diggs boy, Hugh swatted his baby half-brother's head. "She's going to murder you! What are you thinking?"_

_The younger boy pressed his lips together, shrugging. "I just wanted an adventure."_

_Hugh ran a hand through his curly, sandy-brown hair, his blue eyes in slits as he questioned the boy almost twelve years his younger. "And you believe that Topeka is a place for adventure? It's just the same as home. Just a few more people in the city. You're a little shit, you know that?"_

_Oscar crossed his arms, daring his brother to do something about it. "Are you gonna make me walk home, huh? Or turn around and drive me? 'Cause then you'll be two days behind your delivery schedule and the old man will be angrier than a pig stuck in a fence."_

"_Oh, you're coming with me, you little shit. And you're gonna work."_

"_Fine! I had planned on it anyway." He slid off the back of the carriage, pulling up his baggy britches. _

"_You'd think with six older brothers, your ma could find some pants that fit you," Hugh said with a tut, shaking his head. "My mother would have sewn them for you." The original Mrs. Diggs had passed away shortly after the birth of her seventh child. A cold winter, a harsh infection — with the few resources the Diggs had available to them on their farm, there was nothing even the best doctor in town could have done to save her. When Mr. Diggs had remarried a spry, young neighbor girl, hardly four years older than the eldest child at the time, the original Diggs children hadn't taken it very well._

"_Yeah, well, maybe she should have lived long enough to do that!" Oscar sneered, retying the thin rope that held them around his waist. _

"_Oh, no you don't—" Hugh grabbed Oscar by the scruff of his shirt, holding him up. "You want me to leave you out here to rot in a field somewhere, huh? 'Cause don't think I won't, you little shit. At least my mother could bear children that weren't retarded! And you're barely passable as is! You might as well sit inside with Walter and Helen all day, good lord knows you're 'bout as slow as they are!"_

"_I am not retarded! I'm hell of a lot smarter than you, you great oaf! At least I can fuckin' read! I don't know why dad sends you out on these trips anyway, I'm surprised you can tell up from down on a fuckin' map! You—oof!" Hugh dropped his youngest sibling, kicking him square in the gut, knocking the wind right out of him._

"_At least I'm not sittin' around playing with magic flowers all damn day! At least I've worked an honest day in my life!" Oscar flipped himself over, pushing himself onto his knees with his palms against the dusty ground. "You don't know nothin' about hard work, you little shit. And it's about time you learned. I'm gonna tell dad to pull you right outta school when we get back—"_

"_No!" Oscar shrieked, suddenly standing, pushing Hugh backward in the chest. "I'm going to finish school, not like the rest of you lot! And I'm going to study hard! And I'm going to leave this damn state and I'm gonna go to University! Yeah, I'll be an engineer! I'll be smarter than anyone in our family has ever been! And there isn't anything' you can do to stop me!" _

_Hugh tossed his head back in laughter as Oscar tried to push him again, his amusement so great that tears leaked form his eyes. "You-you think you're gonna go to University! Oh, Oscar, you little shit. Don't you know who you are and where you come from? You're gonna be a farmer, you goofy bastard," He continued to chuckle, feeling almost sorry for his brother and his lofty expectations. "Kid, listen," Oscar had turned around with his arms crossed, eyebrows knitted together in anger. "You're gonna be a farmer. Your dad is a farmer, his dad was a farmer, his dad's dad was a farmer. All your uncles and brothers are farmers. It's a family business and it's in your blood."_

"_No it's not!" Oscar turned around, fuming wildly, stomping his foot and shouting his responses. "I'm not gonna mull around in the dirt my whole life! I'm gonna do great things! You watch me!"_

"_What, you gonna turn water into wine?"_

"_Maybe I will!" His face was beat red now, the flush traveling down his neck. "Maybe I'll be the next great magician! Or engineer when I get to go to school!"_

_Hugh rolled his eyes and decided to drop the subject. "You're not going to school, Oscar. Don't set yourself out to be disappointed in life."_

"That's awful," Glinda sighed, her eyes sympathetic. "Your own brother, trying to crush your dreams? Tell me, he didn't?"

Oz shrugged. "I don't think he was trying to crush me so much as to set me into reality. He was right, you know? Farming families don't, can't send their kids to school. I was lucky to have gone in primary. My brother's mother hadn't let them go. My mother's first two children were born with droopy eyes. She knew they couldn't do much outside of caring for the hens and doing the washing. When she had me, she thought I was her one chance of success. Every day until I was eight she walked me to school, three miles up the road. Once I learned to read, my father wanted her to stop taking me, so she did. I just went on my own."

Glinda was about to ask more questions, curious just how the son of a farmer wound up in a traveling carnival, when Locasta's stout shadow washed over their table. "It's five minutes past your time, girly. Come, come, time to get back to work. You, too!" She leered at Oz, "Didn't I tell you I wanted that bannister replaced by evening?"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "It's not quite evening."

Glinda giggled and stood, moving to press a sweet kiss to Oz's temple. "See you for dinner, Wizard." He caught her hand with a little squeeze before watching her shoulders tense up as she followed Locasta out of the garden. He prepared to pick up after their lunch, but the Gilliken girls from earlier trotted out in front of him, insisting that they had it under control. He gave a little nod and thanks before returning to work.

His mind wandered back to their lunchtime conversation, however. He couldn't help the little smile that tugged on his lips when he recalled the first real magic kit he'd owned...then the disappointment that followed when his brother revealed his secret plans to their father.

_Oscar gripped the small box tightly in his sweaty palms, a pocketful of change jingling, ready to be spent. This, this was the key to success, to his future — metal puzzles and contraptions and powders and fire starters. He'd make a killing in the town square off his dazzling new tricks. Hugh had instructed him to stay sitting with the carriage while he'd gone inside to talk to the man the goods were going to, but the moment the door had shut, Oscar sprinted down the streets of Topeka, finding a little shop that seemed promising. _

_He took a deep breath before stepping up to the counter, where a hunch-backed old man was half-asleep. "Excuse me?" Oscar cleared his throat, placing the box next to the cash register. "I'd like to buy this, please." This was his first time ever spending money in a store, and he was a little nervous that something was going to go wrong._

_The man sat up straighter, looking at the box of magic supplies that had a film of dust on it, save for the places Oscar's fingers had been. "Magic? What's a little man like you need magic for?" He looked Oscar up and down, from his dingy, over-sized button-down shirt, to his baggy pants held up with a string. His hair was oily from days without wash, and dirt smudged on his cheeks from sleeping on the ground over the past few nights. _

"_I've figured out the tricks of the trade," Oscar gave a toothy grin, "I'm pretty good at it, well, with what I had at home. I was doing my tricks in the town square to earn money. I have four dollars and twenty-six cents. I was hoping that might be enough to buy this real kit?" He shrugged his shoulders, suddenly more nervous than before. Four dollars and twenty-six cents for this whole kit? He was probably way out of his league, there was no way this shop keeper would—_

"_What are you trying to earn money for?"_

_Oscar dug a shoe that was a little too tight in the toes against the wooden floorboards of the store. "I want to save enough money to go to university. I don't want to be a farmer like my father and brothers. My brother Hugh thinks I'm crazy."_

_The shop keeper stepped out from behind the counter, keeping his footing with a cane. "That does sound like a pretty big goal...but...an admirable one. You think you'll earn more money with that magic kit?"_

_Oscar nodded enthusiastically. "I know I can!" _

"_Well, young man, I've had that kit sitting around for as long as I can remember having this store for. I don't know how good the powder inside it will be...but, I suppose I could sell it to you. How's about two dollars and fifteen cents?"_

_Oscar's eyes widened — he'd have money leftover? He hadn't expected that! "Sold!" He said with a little jump and a pump of his fist in the air. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!" _

_The store owner laughed and Oscar counted out his coins, two dollars and fifteen cents' worth. He gathered the kit and turned to leave, but the old man stopped him. "Now, you can't be a proper magician in that getup!" He made his way to the back of the store, searching the shelves for a moment when, "Aha!" He chuckled and brought a clean, black top-hat forward and placed it on Oscar's greasy head. "Now, you're ready to make some magic!"_

"_H-how much for this?" Oscar was hesitant to ask, he was hoping to save the rest of his coins for school._

"_Hm...I think it's on the house — one for the boy with dreams of education. Take care young man, take care." _

_Oscar's eyes sparkled from the gesture. He tipped the hat forward, enthusiastically thanking the man once more for his kindness. He sprinted back to the carriage, praying that his brother wouldn't be out yet. "Please, God, if you're there, you'll let something good happen, just this once." Much to his relief, Hugh was still inside and Oscar was able to stuff his new possessions in a small burlap sack he'd brought along. He took a deep breath, eyes to the sky, ready to truly dazzle and amaze whoever came to see him preform next._

* * *

Glinda huffed and closed her eyes, trying her damnedest to stay focused on kitten in front of her — white, with bright blue eyes, oh, she didn't want to hurt the poor thing.

"It's not as hard as you think, girly," Locasta's voice grated on her ears and she gritted her teeth to not say anything snarky in return. She knew this was simple magic. But aside from making bubbles and fog, levitating and countering other magic, she was limited. "Focus the energy to the tip of the wand. Make it—"

"Please," She whispered, daring to talk back for the first time since she'd arrived in the Northern Castle. "Locasta, please, don't try to correct me. I will figure it out on my own. I just need time and quiet."

The old witch laughed, a hand on her belly. "Goodness, girl, if you could figure it out on your own, you would have by now. Don't jest, you're not—"

A knock on the door disrupted them both. Oz stood with a sheepish expression on. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a few Gillikenese women downstairs who'd like a word with you, Locasta."

The old witch grunted and took several steps to the door before commanding, "I want that cat on the other side of the room when I get back."

She left, Oz entered, and Glinda's shoulders fell in defeat. "Thank you," She muttered as he sat next to her in criss-cross, reaching forward and lifting the kitten into his palms, cooing at the fluffy little beast. Glinda couldn't help feeling lighter as she watched him interact with the creature. "Don't get too attached, I'm probably going to wind up killing the poor thing."

Oz kissed it's fuzzy forehead and pouted. "I thought the good people of Oz are forbidden to kill?"

Glinda shrugged. "Accidents happen."

He placed the kitten down and it wobbled over to her, batting at her dress with it's foot. "I'm supposed to transport it from here to the other side of the room using magic. Though I've been able to do it with objects, I'd really rather not send a breathing creature through space." She tapped the tiny cat's paw back, encouraging it to play. It rolled over onto it's back, little legs wobbling in the air as she tickled it's tummy. "He's awfully cute."

Oz picked up the animal in question and walked slowly over to the other side of the room, placing the kitten on the floor with a smile. "Ta-da!" Glinda could only roll her eyes and Oz brought the kitten back, rubbing it's white ears before moving back to the other side of the room. He held out his hands. "Get him into my hands. Come on, you can do it."

"I don't think I can," Glinda insisted, raising her wand from the ground and stroking the cat's back with it.

"You are cable of more than you think," Oz chided. "Try it, Glinda."

She closed her eyes, realizing he wouldn't stop pestering her until she gave an attempt, knowing full-well that she would fail. With a wave of her wand and channeling her energy, she tried the spell, hesitant to open her eyes, but gleeful when she did so and discovered the white ball of fluff alive and well, nuzzled against Oz's cheek as it balanced in his hands. "I did it," She whispered under her breath.

"I knew you could." He strolled back to her, placing the kitten in her hands before kissing her cheek. "Come on, you made it happen. Is your day done yet?"

"I suppose given that I was expecting that little stunt to take all night, she can go," Locasta said from the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. "Get some sleep, girly. We're working twice as hard tomorrow, and Wizard? Expect a late assignment tomorrow afternoon. You're both dismissed."

Oz stood first, taking Glinda's free hand in his, pulling her up to her feet and nodding to the exit. He directed her to their shared chambers, promising to bring back dinner. Glinda placed the kitten and her wand in the middle of their bed — _their bed_? Their bed. Never in thirty-one years as a witch in the Land of Oz had she imagined sharing a bed with a man. She sighed, rolling onto the plush surface herself and winding her body around the kitten. She supposed that sooner or later, she'd have to explain to him why it was that witches rarely, if ever, were treated with romance in their land. But, as her eyes wandered to the white ball of fluff that was rooting in the blankets, recalling her inability to accomplish her task until Oz had encouraged her — just like defeating the wicked witches — she decided the conversation could wait.

She groaned and sat back up, chewing on the inside of her lip and looking around the room for something to keep her occupied until Oz returned with their supper. "Ah," She whispered to herself, lifting her wand and summoning her crown from the vanity on the side wall, feeling back to herself as she slotted it in it's proper place. She kicked her legs back and forth as she made eye-contact with herself in the mirror of the said vanity, shrugging at her expression. Locasta certainly had taken away her shimmer, and Glinda hated that the woman had that powerful of an effect on her.

"_Father," She sobbed as the King of Oz reached out his arms for her ten-year-old self to run to, sobbing fully as he came to remove her from the North Castle after nearly a two month stay of magical training. "Please don't make me go back."_

This castle never was home. Even with Oz's comforting presence, it would never feel like a place she could belong.

Oz arrived some twenty minutes later with a tray of food that he set on a small table in the corner of the room. They'd dug up chairs from a study the day before, deciding that eating in their chambers alone was a much more desirable option than dining with Locasta in the large kitchen.

"Oh, Gilliken Marsopa! You'll love it," She said excitedly, pulling her chair up to the table and promptly digging in. "I don't know how to describe it to you, since I'm assuming this all tastes much different than the food of your world."

Oz gave a shrug. "It's better than what I was used to, that's for sure." He tried a bite of the suspicious-looking, gooey substance. "And it is good."

Glinda smiled between pieces of her meal. "So, tell me, what happened after you got your magic kit?" The Wizard took a few more bites before leaning back in the chair, recalling the parts of the story that struck his most bitter bones.

_Oscar spent the next four months after Topeka doing Hugh's bidding, as an agreement that he would not tell their father what his youngest son was up to. It wasn't until a too-hot day in April that Mr. Diggs discovered Oscar's talent. "What the hell are you doing, son?" He questioned as the boy worked with a piece of wire, trying to figure out how to move it without catching light. _

_Deciding that this trick may be a good first-start to explaining his goals to his father, Oscar admitted, "Practicing magic. I found a book on it when we cleaned out Uncle Dale's place. It's pretty cool."_

_Unimpressed with the explanation, Mr. Diggs crossed his arms and asked, "Shouldn't you be gathering the eggs for your mother?" _

_Oscar opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out a way to re-state what he was working on. "Dad, it's actually a better use of my time—"_

_The man of the house roared in laughter. "As if you know anything about the value of time. Son, drop the toys and get your ass out to the barn before I get you to shovel it."_

_Oscar was poised to argue when the elder Diggs caught sight of a tin box near the boy's mattress. "What's this all about?" The younger's eyes widened, prepared for a reaming the century. "Oscar," He said with a great breath upon opening the box and discovering quite the collection of coins. "Who the hell did you steal this money from?"_

"_I didn't steal it!" Oscar exclaimed, "I swear, dad, I swear! I earned it! I've been doing my magic tricks in town every afternoon. People think it's really neat and they pay me to show them my tricks! I swear, I swear!"_

"_And what need have you of coin? You don't have a property to purchase; a woman's father will gladly pay you to take her off his hands. You know that the money your brothers make on the side goes to our general family fund, do you not?"_

"_I do," Oscar whispered, hot tears threatening to spill over. "Dad, please, please, don't dump that all in there. I've worked so hard—"_

"_Worked? Playing games for a crowd is work? You've never worked a day in your life, boy!" He was fuming, turning the coins over in his hands. "Talk to your brothers! The sweat off their brows and blood from their calloused hands goes into our family fund! None of them complain!"_

"_Dad," Oscar cried, not caring that he was making a weak fool of himself by crying in front of his father, "I'm saving that money! I want- I want to go to school!" He blurted the last part with closed eyes, knowing his father wouldn't approve of his dreams of higher education. _

"_You go to school! You're damn lucky that I don't stop you from marching your ass uphill each morning and throw you to tend to the cattle!"_

"_No, no! I want to go to university, dad! I want a real education, with science, and theory, and mathematics and—"_

"_You're never going to have enough money, son. Not for that. Besides, you're a Diggs boy! All Diggs men work the farm! That's the way it always has been and—"_

"_It doesn't have to be!" Oscar blubbered, "I swear, I can do this! I'm really good at math and I read all the time and I want to invent things! I'm really good at putting things together and figuring them out! I want to be an engineer, I could develop the next moving transportation, I could—"_

"_Sure, sure, Oscar," The father grumbled, dumping his son's hard-earned coins into a family jar, earning a loud cry of protest. "You could do a lot of things, great things. And you will do them here. On this farm. With this family, that you were born into. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but this is the way things are. I don't know that I like the ideas that school has put into your head. You can finish off this year, but come June, you will be working full-time for the farm, just like every other Diggs man who was ever born." He left the room, not bothering to comfort the wildly distressed Oscar, who had flung himself onto his mattress, holding his pillow and crying loudly. _

_He didn't leave the room for dinner, and afterwords, Hugh came in to visit. "Hey, you little shit. What'd you go and rat yourself out for, huh?" The sandy-haired man teased, though Oscar didn't find it the slightest bit funny. "Listen, Oscar...don't give up on life, man. Dad's just looking out for you. He knows that you belong on this farm—"_

"_No I don't!" Oscar cried, sitting up and staring his brother hard in his blue eyes, trying his damnedest to make him understand. "I don't belong here. I belong somewhere where I can be great! I can't be great milking cows or collecting eggs or tilling the dirt! I have to get out of here!"_

_As the end of June rolled around, Oscar knew that his days at the Diggs' family home were numbered. He couldn't be in a place that didn't value innovation or education, a place without magic. The last day of school was near and he wasn't sure when or where he was going to leave for, but he knew that he would not spend his life plowing fields and chasing sheep._

"_Oscar," Hugh called one afternoon, meeting his younger brother halfway to their family home on his way back from school on his second-to-last day. He had a large sack over his shoulder, and a hefty-looking brown bag in his hand. "Walk with me."_

_The young magician raised a curious brow. "You can't keep making me work for you. Dad already knows."_

"_Nah, not workin'. Come on, you little shit. We got to be near town by five."_

_Oscar rolled his eyes but followed his brother nonetheless, offering to take the bag out of his hand. He carried it with both hands, it was heavier than he expected. "What's in here, bricks?" He muttered, following a close lead. "Where's the hay going?" He asked, nodding to the large burlap bag Hugh still had over his shoulder. The older brother ignored him, giving a smirk._

_They traveled on, down a road Oscar hadn't previously taken. The temperature from the scorching sun was getting hot, and he was getting annoyed. "Seriously, Hugh—"_

"_Just relax, you impatient bastard. We're almost there."_

_Heaving themselves up one more hill, they arrived to their destination. "What...a carnival?" He'd read about them, more recently in his quest for magical knowledge, but he'd never attended one. His father insisted such spectacles were a waste of their time and money. His eyes caught the sign on what appeared to be a hastily assembled fence. "It says they closed yesterday, Hugh. You great dolt, we're a day late!" _

_Hugh tutted his tongue and entered the rickety gate. "I had to deliver hay last week, when they got in town. I met with the owner and asked him some questions, and they asked me to stop back by this week with a little extra for the road...and you."_

"_Me?" Oz shook his head in confusion. "What good is going to a carnival that's closed?"_

"_You're not here to attend, you goofy shit. You're here to work."_

_Oz set the bag he'd been carrying down to cross his arms. "I told you, I'm not working for you anymore!"_

_Hugh turned to meet his angry gaze with a gentle one. "Not for me, Oscar. For them."_

_A figure approached them, in a crisp button-down shirt and obnoxiously stripped pants. "Ah, the Diggs boys, I see you've brought my assistant, Oscar!"_

_The older of the two brothers shook hands with the man as Oscar's bottom lip stuck out slightly in confusion and mistrust. "What the hell is going on?"_

"_Aha! Spunky! I like that, young man. Bring your bag, we've much to discuss."_

_Oscar was hesitant, but lifted the heavy case and followed his brother and the stranger, who led them past trailers and stages, podiums and bleachers until they arrived in a fairly wide tent. "Welcome to the carnival, kid. Your brother says you got some tricks?"_

_The eleven-year-old blinked. "Uh...yeah, but I don't have my—" He looked down at the bag in his hands, then up at Hugh with a cheeky smirk. "I see." He opened it up, finding his rings and other supplies on top. He cleared his throat and prepared a dramatic monologue in his head, dazzling the owner with seven of his most complicated magical maneuvers. _

_The man was laughing and clapping all the way to the end of the display, giving the boy a firm pat on the shoulder when it was all over. "Listen, Mr. Diggs, your brother was telling me of your talents last week. He also told me about your dreams to go to school. I know it's not much, but if you'd like to earn some money of your own to save up and go to a university, and get to practice and show off your magic, you are more than welcome to join our company."_

"_What?" Oscar winced, staring up at Hugh. "Like...be on the road?" The owner nodded and led Oscar around the tent to a little trailer in the back that had Oscar stumbling backwards and falling on his bottom in shock. "A lion!? What the hell!?" _

"_For the beginning of your time with us, we'll have you working odd jobs around the fair, such as taking care of our animals and working as an assistant to some of our more popular spectacles. You'll be paid five dollars a week and earn tips when you can."_

"_Five dollars a week?" Oscar's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he pulled himself back up. "Where will I sleep? What will I eat? What will I wear?"_

_The owner let out a laugh right from his belly. "Oh, in good time. I'll show you to your trailer." _

_After a tour and meet-and-greet with some of his soon-to-be-fellow carnival workers, Oscar was in genuine awe of the idea of life on the road. "So, what say you, young man?"_

_Oscar dared a glance up at Hugh, who'd stayed close the whole time. "What do you think?" He asked sheepishly, his hands growing clammy as he wrestled with the decision._

"_I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't think it was a good idea, you little shit." The older brother shrugged. "I think this is the best chance you have of getting off the damn farm and saving your own money for your own goals." _

_Oscar took a deep breath, wishing he had more time to really think it over before committing. "I-I guess that this is probably my best chance at achieving greatness." He looked up at the owner with as much confidence in his eyes as he could muster — wishing he'd given his mother a hug before he left the house. He extended his hand to seal the deal._

"_Welcome to the carnival, young man. Oscar Diggs, you're going to be our next big thing, I can sense it."_

Glinda tilted her head to the side, shaking her head in sympathy. "So you didn't get to say goodbye to your mother or father? You just joined them?"

Oz nodded, rubbing his palms against his pant legs. "I still regret not telling my mother that I loved her that morning before I left for school. I'd been so angry with her for not standing up to my father for me, not letting me go back to school in the fall, that I'd all but been ignoring her. When the fair came back to town the next year late in the summer, Hugh came to visit me. I was ecstatic to see him and hoping to go home for a few days. But..." He sighed and refused to look up from his empty plate.

"_Oscar!" Hugh called from the side of his little brother's trailer. Twelve-year-old Oz looked up from sewing a sleeve of his master magician's coat. He hadn't been called that name in over a year._

_With haste, he ran outside, spotting his third eldest brother and unable to stop the tears of joy that spilled over his cheeks as he ran forward for an open-armed hug. "How are you, you little shit? Damn you've gotten tall!" _

_Oz slugged him in the arm. "Not such a little shit anymore! I'm great!" He said, his voice a little deeper than Hugh remembered. He even had a little fuzz growing in front of his ears. "How's my mom? How's dad? How's everyone? How's the farm?"_

_Hugh swallowed, suddenly less excited. "Hey, let's go for a walk, alright?"_

_Oz gave him a quizzical stare. "That doesn't sound good."_

_The older Diggs boy put an arm around his brother's shoulders as they strolled down the midway and to the back of the fair, where they took a seat on an empty bench. "Oscar, we had a really rough winter...Not enough food, we couldn't keep the house warm for the life of us. Everyone caught a nasty flu bug and your mom got really, really sick." Oz felt a lump rising in his throat. "Unfortunately, she couldn't fight off the infection. I'm sorry, Oscar. She didn't make it. We buried her in the early spring."_

_He felt hot tears dripping onto his shirt. "Was-was she mad at me? For leaving?"_

"_No," Hugh said firmly. "No, Oscar, she wasn't. She was actually very proud of you. She wrote this, when she was sick. I don't think you should read it now. Save it for tonight, okay? But...Losing your mom was just the start, unfortunately." Oscar looked up in dismay, unsure how much more news he could handle. "Dad was all but losing his mind, after his second wife passed away of nearly the same thing my mom did. He...he got really reckless. Started drinking, a lot. And while Orville, Ernie and I did out best to control him, he...He got into an accident, just a few weeks ago. Got so drunk that he died right in the dirt he'd worked his whole life on." Hugh's hands shook a little as he rubbed them together, unable to look into his little brother's distraught face anymore. "We've all pretty much fallen apart. We don't know what to do with the farm. No one's getting along and we might just sell off the property and go our separate ways." He took a deep breath before sharing his last piece of terrible news,"I know, I know that this is awful, but...The brothers and I, along with Milly and Aggie...we decided it would be best for your brother and sister to go to an institution. We knew we couldn't care for them like your ma did."_

_Oscar stood up, suddenly filled less with grief and more with a burning anger in the pit of his stomach. "You sent them away? You sent them away? How-how could you? You know they treat them like cattle in those places!" He shouted, pacing along the dusty Kansas ground. "They'll rot in there! You know why my mother kept them home, despite what all the doctors said! You-you're disgraceful!" He turned to run away, burning streaks of anger spilling over his face, washing clean lines on his dirty cheeks. _

_Hugh rose and grabbed his arm before he could run, surprised at the strength his brother was demonstrating, but overcoming him nonetheless. He pulled the younger boy against his chest, where Oz let out a wail of distress, hitting his brother hard against the shoulder repeatedly. Hugh took the beating, knowing the young magician had to let the despair out or he'd wind up doing something drastic. "Oscar," Hugh sighed his name, resting his cheek atop Oz's curly hair. "You're welcome to come home with me, if you want. I'm staying on the farm, for now, and I won't make you work. I'll make sure you're fed, I'll let you go to school, I'll do whatever I can to help you save money for university, and I'll take you out east when you're ready—"_

_Oscar pulled back, mopping up his wet face with his sleeves. He couldn't look up at his half-brother, truly feeling the 'half' portion as he'd given away his true-blood siblings to be farmed out themselves in a dingy hospital somewhere. "I don't want to come home, ever. There's nothing there for me. I can't achieve anything on that fucking farm."_

"_I know, Oscar." Hugh rubbed his brother's shoulder, surprised when his hand wasn't shrugged off. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a stack of bills. "This is for you. It turns out, your mother was saving money for you for quite some time, well before you even dreamed of magic or heading away for school. She thought you might want to go away to a university when you were older." At the sight of the large sum of money, Oz started to cry again, his body crumpling to a heap on the dead Kansas grass. He cried into his arm, the only picture in his head of his mother, her curly brown hair that tumbled down her back, her bright brown eyes that used to watch him so protectively. "Oscar, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I told you to run away, but...even after everything, and even though you didn't get to say goodbye...I think that this was all meant to be."_

_He lifted Oz off the ground and tossed the boy over his shoulders, carrying him like a monkey down the midway and back to the trailer where he'd met up with him. He set him down on the lumpy mattress next to his sewing and reached into his pocket again, removing a faded photograph. They didn't have many of their family — photography was terribly expensive and not a necessity. But one day, their father had loosened up enough to have a few pictures taken. The process was long, but they had some priceless images in the end. As Oz's misty eyes caught sight of his five-year-old self sitting between his slower siblings, whose faces were their typical smiley ones, he let out another sob. He looked upwards at his mother who was standing over them with her hands behind her back, a proud grin on her face, despite the length of time they'd had to pose for the photo. _

"_Do you want me to stay until you guys leave for the next fair, Oscar? 'Cause I'll stay with you if that's what you want. Or I'll go, if that would make you more comfortable."_

_Oz tucked the picture and money next to the note in his small lock-box beneath his mattress, shaking his head. "You can go, Hugh. I'll be okay."_

_Hugh sighed and rubbed a hand over his little brother's back. "I'm really sorry, Oscar. I love you, you know that, right?"_

_The young magician shrugged, not ready to look up yet. "I guess. Can you please go? I'd like to be alone."_

Oz stood up from the table, ending the story abruptly. Glinda sat still, barely breathing, afraid to follow him in fear that her questions had led to terrible flashbacks. She turned her head slowly to spot him ruffling through his bag, assuming it was probably the same one his brother had packed for him to join the carnival crowd with. He removed a yellowed piece of paper and waved for her to join him at the foot of their bed. She slowly crossed the floor, letting her arms swing in front of her before taking a seat next to him, curling an arm around his bicep and nestling her head against his shoulder. He opened the dingy paper with slightly trembling hands, holding it out for her to read.

_My dearest Oscar, _

_I'm terribly sorry I won't be able to make it to your magic show in the summer. I was so looking forward to watching you perform when the fair rolled back into town. I was going to bring your father and have him see what a truly marvelous son we have. Just because your skills aren't what he's used to in a son does not make them any less valuable. I am proud that you made the decision to do what you want with your life, even if it means that I will not be able to see you again. If you want to go to university, go. I'm sure in time, your father will be just as proud of you as I am. Don't let someone else's idea of what you should be stop you from doing great things. _

_All my love,_

_Mom_

Glinda gently removed the letter from Oz's hands, setting it delicately on the nightstand next to their bed. She took off her crown and placed it next to the sacred note and toed off her shoes. Oz watched her from the corner of his eye, taking shallow breaths as she moved to stand in front of him, her hands on his shoulders before moving one leg over his lap, then slowly the other. His palms rested on her hips before connecting his lips to hers, unable to stop the groan in the back of his throat that followed as she fingered the buttons on his shirt — all thoughts of his parents and brothers and carnival life forgotten. He squeezed her gently, his thumbs drawing light circles against her pelvis. Her body arched forward of it's own accord and her mouth opened in a moan, giving invitation for his tongue to duel with hers. The movement was a little shocking but it wasn't long before Glinda was responding fully, her body beginning to feel tingly from the waist down.

Oz moved one hand from her hip to slide up from her ankle to the hem of her dress, rubbing up and down the smooth leg. Her fingertips brushed up the nape of his neck, tugging gently on his hair as she took over the ferocity of the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip, surprising him. He pulled back for just a moment, letting his eyelids flutter open to look at her puffy mouth, pecking it with a smile. She smiled back, her arms both winding around his neck which was growing warmer by the second. He pulled both hands away from her to encourage her to stand up for a moment as he slid back to the pillows then nodded her up to join him. She did, dazzling smile and all as she lay on top of him, nuzzling her head into his chest before looking up to meet his lips in a sweet kiss, then a second, and a third before sucking in a deep breath and tackling them once more, this time running a brave hand up his shirt and over his abdominal muscles.

He smirked into the kiss giving her space to push her tongue between his lips once more, running it over his teeth. His own hands moved from around her middle to one in her hair, his fingers threaded through the blonde locks and the other moved lower, just below her derrière. She groaned a bit, her chest rising closer to his and fingers working at popping his buttons open. When they were, she tore off his shirt and broke the kiss, sitting up to marvel at his well-toned chest from years of working at the carnival, taking down stages and putting them back together again. She traced the lines from his pectorals down to the button of his pants before feeling bold and kissing the same line back up to his lips.

Oz tried to remember to breathe as she crawled up him to lay her covered chest across his bare one and ran both hands through his hair and behind his neck. Her hips lowered down over his groin and he groaned, closing his eyes. He doubted she truly knew what effects her actions were having on his body, if the conversation about witches from Theodora was any indication about their experiences. Glinda was a fast learner, though, as he'd seen with her magical skills. He imagined she was picking up pretty quickly in other ways, too.

She tucked her face into his neck, placing small kisses there and letting her eyelashes blink against him, feeling his whole body relax while one of his hands moved from her behind to her back, rubbing against her healed spine. She couldn't stand the pain that she'd seen in his eyes while he told her about his past with his family, and though part of their new one wasn't all together now, as China Girl and Finley were still in the Emerald City, she couldn't help but want to give him all that he'd missed, and she'd missed, too, for their years without their own.

* * *

Thanks for all the feedback, lovelies. It is very encouraging to have you all reading and supporting this story.  
If you're waiting for a plot, it's coming, fear not. As is an angsty Annie/John-Glinda/Oz introspective one-shot in the next few days. Keep an eye out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Three  
**_I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones_

Glinda whimpered as she clutched blankets to her chest, nowhere near ready to get up for the day. "'S no fair," She mumbled as Oz poked at her shoulder. "You get to sleep in."

"The price of not being magic," He said with a grin, kissing her temple. "Get up before Locasta drops a nasty spell on you." Her eyebrows knitted together; Glinda gave a long whine before sitting up and blinking hard against the sunlight that was pouring into their shared chambers.

After a final dramatic noise, Glinda set her toes against the cold stone floor, stretching as she stood, still in her dress from the day before. Rubbing an eye and catching sight of herself in the vanity mirror, she shuddered. "I'm going to take a bath. If that old witch is so insistent on starting at the crack of dawn, she can drag my naked behind out of the water at her own risk."

Oz smirked into his pillow, watching as she made her way to the washroom that was off of the bedroom. "Let me know if you need any help," He called, sensing her face flare with a flush. To his disappointment, she closed the door behind her. With a groan, he rolled over, hoping the blood would stop rushing to places that wouldn't be satisfied this early in their relationship.

"Oh, please, boy, you've got hands, take care of it yourself," A scratchy voice came from the doorway. Oz looked up to see the old witch barreling towards him. He blinked in surprise she'd actually said what she had. "I see the two of you aren't completely living in sin yet, this is good, this is good. I can't have her magical wires crossing her heart wires right now. Too much. Don't ravage her until you're back to the Emerald City, for all our sakes."

Oz coughed at her brash language, sitting up to face her. "What?"

Locasta paced a bit, a hand on her lower back as she muttered what appeared to be a pain-killing spell. "Witches aren't built the same as non-magic folk, Wizard. Why do you think you're the first romantic quest for Glinda, hm?"

He shrugged. "I've gathered that people seem to fear relationships with witches, but—"

Locasta gave a little snicker. "As they should. I figured that little minx wouldn't be honest with you. Come take a walk with me." He resisted the urge to groan as he rolled out of the bed, not interested in tugging on a robe or shoes to move about the castle in. Locasta rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't want you to be decent."

He followed her throughout the stone hallways, realizing they were going to the oversized library that housed thousands of books on more topics then he even knew existed. "Your assignment today," The witch started as she rose in the air, flying across shelf to shelf, reading the spines of books until, "Aha!" She settled back down to her feet, blowing the dust off the cover and onto Oz's shirt. He blinked, refusing to acknowledge her action. "You'll need to read this text — it should explain everything. You can interrogate Glinda this evening. You won't be having a break with her today, I'm afraid. She'll be far too busy."

Oz nodded as Locasta disappeared in front of him, likely to harass his partner. He rubbed his thumb over the title of the book, _Witches: Talents and Tribulations_, a hefty piece of literature. "Alright," He sighed, spotting a long sofa and deciding to forgo breakfast and start consuming the information before him.

* * *

Glinda squinted in confusion as she stepped out of the washroom and spotted Locasta sitting in her and Oz's main room, eating breakfast at the table. "Did you really have to scare him away already?" She sighed, her shoulders falling as she moved behind a screen to change. She'd been hoping to gain the wizard's attention by entering the room in nothing but a towel.

"Get yourself decent, girly. We've much to do today. Something practical, please, we won't be staying here." The old witch chattered on about the schedule she had planned, most of which Glinda tuned out as she tugged on another simple dress, white with a yellow band around the middle. She was going to run out of clothing before the end of the week, though she supposed Locasta would have some _lovely_ frocks she could adorn while practicing magic. "...And we'll finish with you transporting yourself and I back here at the end of the day."

The blonde witch emerged, finger-combing her wet locks as she shrugged, trying to brush off her nerves at having to perform under different conditions. "I've done a relocation spell on myself before. Granted, it was under extreme stress, but—"

Locasta cleared her throat, pointing a fork at the young woman who took a seat in the chair opposite her. "And that's the point, dear. You need to be able to produce magic under all circumstances. You've been lucky in the past—you've always been a lucky girl. Now it's time to take ownership of that."

Glinda picked at the meal of grains and meat that laid before her, not the slightest hungry given the position Locasta wanted her to be in. "Where did you send Oscar?" She asked after a forced bite of the breakfast.

The grey-haired women rolled her blue eyes. "It's all about the man, hm? He's off, I've sent him to study for the day. He's got plenty to learn. Especially given that you've basically told him nothing of what it means to romance a witch, I figured he aught to know—"

"What?" Glinda dropped her fork, her heart starting to race as she stood up. "What did you tell him?"

Locasta raised a hand, indicating she was still in charge of the conversation. "I've told him nothing. I simply provided him with some resources to learn for himself what consequences may follow being in a relationship with you. It's reciprocal, Glinda. You know that. You have the responsibility to tell him what might pan out—"

"It's...I was going to tell him...eventually!" She stuttered, face flushed and palms sweating. "I just...I didn't want to scare him away. I've always scared people away, just by being who I am." She wiped a hand against her dress, swallowing hard. "I need to go talk to him before he learns too much."

Locasta gave a suspicious eye. "Ignorance would not create bliss in this situation, dear. And it's not as if you're the only witch to ever experience such a dilemma. We've all felt unwanted and unloved. You're luckier than most of us to have had a father who loved and supported you. Evanora and Theodora were both abandoned by their fathers. What makes you so special that you think you deserve more than either of them had?"

"They're wicked," Glinda muttered, "And I can't control the upbringing I had. Just because I had the opportunity to be happy then doesn't mean I can't have happiness now."

"It's not about happiness, dear." Locasta stood, waving the dishes away, presumably to send them to the kitchens. "I don't know how long I will have to pass down what I know onto you. Right now, you and I are the last good witches left. Your relationship with the Wizard is self-fulfilling and can only lead to a decrease in skill and focus with a loss in magical stamina. You cannot let your emotions cloud your good judgement on what is best for the people of Oz that you serve."

Glinda refused to show any more emotional weakness in front of Locasta than she already had. "I still want to talk to him before we go—"

"No, you two will discuss this after he has been fully informed of the situation, now decide if you want shoes and prepare your wand. We are heading out." Locasta stood at the door of the chambers with a heavy roll of her eyes as Glinda crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, dear. You're not ten anymore. This behavior got old some time ago."

* * *

_Glinda clutched her father's hand tightly as they stood at the gates of the Emerald City. He promised her a surprise visitor who was going to watch her for a few days while he was gone to their southern palace. At three, she was terrified, having never been separated from her father even for a day. He'd always taken her with him on his travels, and the notion of being without him for even a week was beyond her concept of acceptable. Despite several tantrums and full-blown melt-downs, the king refused to give in. "Little love, she's going to take perfectly good care of you. Worry not."_

_But worrying was all the little blonde-haired, typically bright-eyed child could do as she'd worked herself up sick, now sporting a mild fever. "Daddy," She sighed, learning her warm forehead against his side. "Hold me up, please?"_

_While she was understandable, her consonant sounds tended to slur together and 'Gwina' was becoming less acceptable as she was starting to get older. The king was slowly backing off of her every command and request, but as she batted her long eyelashes at him, he couldn't help but lift her to his hip and allow her to snuggle her face into the side of his neck. "Little love, I need you to stay strong while I'm away." He rocked her for a moment before pointing with one finger up to the sky, "She's here, darling."_

_Glinda looked up, squinting as a large bubble came floating towards them, closer and closer until, with a pop, it disappeared and a tall woman with hair the same hue of yellow as Glinda's, though cropped to the ear, came walking towards them._

"_Locasta," The king laughed, placing his daughter down to embrace the woman almost his height. "It's been far too long, my wonderful auntie. I'm surprised to see you chose not to transport yourself here."_

_The woman gave a laugh. "Well, you know I like to put on a show." She turned with a pleasant smile to the little one who was now cowering behind her father. "What about you, love, do you like bubbles?" She raised a hand and Glinda became trapped inside the soap-like substance, Locasta controlled the movement, raising her to the older witch's height. Glinda barely had time to shut her eyes and process what had happened before the bubble popped and she fell into Locasta's arms. Upon opening her brown orbs again, she cried loudly, holding her arms out to her father who chuckled._

"_I believe I warned you she's a bit...sensitive." _

_Locasta simply laughed, putting Glinda on her own two feet, leaving her to stand crying as the older witch took the king by the upper arm, "Don't worry, dear, I'll have her toughened up by the time you return. Now, let's go over that new economic campaign of yours that you'll be bringing to the Quadlings, hm?"_

_Glinda ran forward, tugging the king's robe in distress. He bent to pick her up, but Locasta shook her head. "She is three years old. Let her walk. She is more than capable." The king clearly hesitated before agreeing, earning a loud cry from Glinda, who tossed herself to the stone ground, earning the looks of all passing by within the entrance of the Emerald City. "Now, you're making a show of yourself. We're heading to the castle, Glinda. You may join us when you are good and ready." _

_The three-year-old princess looked up to watch her father and temporary caregiver walk away. She blinked rapidly in confusion. She'd never been denied his affection before. She ran behind the magical duo towards the castle, slipping in step with her father, panting and sniffing up her tears. Perhaps if he saw how miserable this woman was already making her, the king would allow her to join him for the week._

_They talked of plans and plots and magic, all of which went over Glinda's head as she climbed on top of her father's desk, hoping for attention. She sat down, leaning to the side as she watched Locasta's fingers flip through pages of books and scrolls. "Dear, you don't belong up there," The witch insisted, shooing Glinda down. The brown-eyed girl looked up with her bottom lip sticking out, to which the elder witch laughed. "Oh, dear, if you think that's going to work on me, we're about to have a long, long week."_

_An hour later, the king was packed and ready to depart for six days, leaving Glinda in a puddle of tears and Locasta lifting her up by the armpits to drag her away from the front hall of the castle. "Honestly, Glinda. You are three years old. Hardly a baby anymore. Time to stop acting like it!" The blonde child threw her head back in a yell, her face red in frustration. "You think you're upset over this, little one? Imagine how embarrassing it is for your father to have you act this way. He's the king and he can't even control his own daughter. We've got to change that. Come on; you can either walk on your own or I can make you walk. The choice is yours."_

_Glinda shrugged the old woman's hands off of her and stomped down the hallway, making sure her little white, quarter-inch heels made extra noise against the cobblestone. "Attitude, attitude. Not good work ethic for a witch. We'll have to see if we can't have Evanora work with you each day to whip you right into shape. She's fairly reliable, if not a horribly sneaky thing." Glinda glared behind her as Locasta followed, continuing to ramble. "I do suppose it's been difficult for your father to raise you without your mother. Thank goodness they had been soul-bound, though. Then I'd be stuck with you! Imagine the horror!" The witch laughed. "Oh, dear, neither of us would have wanted that, I'm quite certain. We're going to work hard this week. Let's get us supper and get to work."_

Three hours had passed in the fields outside of Locasta's castle. Glinda was shimmering in sweat, her shoulders heaving as she attempted to catch her breath after a particularly difficult spell.

"Still not right! Keep trying!"

Glinda let out a loud gasp as a bolt of pain ran up her back. "Can we take a break, just for a minute?" She dropped her wand, lowering herself gently to the earth.

Locasta was in front of her in the blink of an eye, shouting, "There's not going to be a break when Evanora and Theodora come back stronger than ever and you're still in practice mode and have given your magical stamina over for a quickie with the Wizard! Get up, girly!"

Glinda stood up tall, her hair practically standing on end. "Would you stop? You think that your words are motivating to me? Because they aren't! You don't know Oz like I do! You don't know what I'm capable of! I'm capable of more than you know — I'm capable of more than I know!"

"Then prove it!" Locasta shrieked, preparing a spell with her wand, aiming it at Glinda, who quickly deflected it. "Prove to me that you're not that horrible, three-year-old brat! Prove to me that you're not still ten and crying for your father's aid!" Glinda shouted an inaudible cry as she unleashed another stroke of magic from her wand, which Locasta barely had to shield. "You call that magic? Come on, Glinda! Work! Work!"

"_That's it, dear. Hold it...hold it..." Locasta, whispered in the three-year-old's ear as Glinda clutched a long, golden wand with a white-knuckle grip. "Oh," She sighed as the glow around the tip disappeared. "We'll have it by tonight's end. You'll just have to practice very hard."_

_Glinda set the wand down, kicking her heels into the legs of the chair she was seated in. She'd been working on lighting up the tip of the stick for nearly five days. "Can I be done now?"_

"_No, no...come on now, you want to be a good witch, don't you?"_

_The little girl shrugged. "I just want to be Glinda."_

_Locasta bopped the young one's nose. "And Glinda is, in fact, a witch. Go on, dear. We want your father to see what you're capable of when he returns."_

_Glinda crossed her arms and stuck up her chin. "Daddy doesn't even care if I'm a witch. He just lets me do what I want."_

_The blue-eyed woman fought back a shout of rage as she lifted Glinda to stand on her feet. "And that's the problem. If you're not going to practice magic, you're going to practice your letters—"_

_The princess yelled, ripping away from Locasta's grip and firmly rooting herself to the floor. "I'm not going anywhere with you! You're the meanest lady I ever—ah!"_

_She shrieked as Locasta lifted her up with a spell, making the little girl cry again. "I'm not trying to be mean, Glinda. I'm trying to get you to work. You're capable of so many things. I want you to be a good witch so you can be of great service to the people of Oz some day. I want you to try hard and practice, practice, practice—"_

"_Locasta," A calm voice called from the doorway. The witch turned to see the king with a weary expression on his face. "It's too soon. She's only three. We'll try again in a few years."_

_The old woman gently set Glinda to her feet, allowing her to run directly into the king's waiting arms, where she cried loudly into his shoulder. Locasta turned on her heel to leave, giving a heeding warning. "If that crying isn't under control, do not send her to me. I am not prepared to deal with that and the attitude."_

Glinda shot an unusual, bright red beam up into the air, bringing a single bolt of lightening down with her arm movement, where it struck hardly a foot away from Locasta, who laughed and clapped. "That's it, dear! Get angry! Put that attitude of yours to good use! Haha!"

"Agh!" Glinda bellowed, bringing another bolt down, breathing deeply.

"Do you feel the energy inside of you? It's swelling, bubbling. You have to achieve that every time you perform an elemental spell! You have to be mad, from your core! Think of my face and all the terror I've put you through to get you tot his point! Think of what Evanora did to your father—"

At the mention of what the wickedest witch had done to Glinda's most precious person, she let not only tears of hot anger trickle down her face, but lifted both arms over her head, channeled her rage, and brought forth dark, angry clouds and a series of lightning bolts with thunder to boot.

"Haha! That's it, that's it! That's power, Glinda! That is magic unleashed! Feel it!"

The tears continued as the storm slowly rescinded. Glinda found her knees trembling. "I don't want to have to feel this way to perform magic!" She breathed deeply, wiping her cheeks with the back of her wrist. "This is a horrible, dirty feeling. This...this has to be what Evanora feels. This has to be wickedness."

"No, no," Locasta's voice suddenly changed into something gentle that Glinda hadn't heard in years. She stepped closer to the young witch, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, dear. What you're feeling? It's power. It's raw magic. It's how you use that magic and power that determines whether you are good or wicked. You know that."

* * *

_Theodora stuck an immature tongue out at Glinda from her place across the dinner table. Locasta had been a brave soul to take both a nine and ten year old witches in at the same time for training. While she was concerned for Glinda's lack of progress, the older witch was more concerned about Theodora's fiery core that could cause a magical explosion of power any second it went untamed._

"_I'm not even going to honor that with a response," Glinda said with a pointed look as she stabbed a vegetable onto her fork. "You are such a nine-year-old," She rolled her eyes as the brown-haired girl mimicked her facial expressions._

"_And you're so big and bad at ten. Whoo! Glinda you might be ten but you know what, you're worse at magic—"_

_Locasta cleared her throat and swatted Theodora on the top of the head as she took a seat next to the trouble-making preteens. "You're both ruddy awful at controlling magic, so I don't want to hear it. Eat up. We're doing an hour of training after supper."_

_Glinda pushed her food around on her plate, her appetite having been gone since before she arrived in the northern castle. She bit her lower lip, desperately wishing her father hadn't dragged her up her — or had at least stayed longer than a day. _

"_Aw, Glindy, are you missing your daddy-dearest?" Theodora snickered, taking a fierce bite of meat. "Just be lucky you've got a dad to miss—"_

"_Enough!" Locasta groaned and waved in Glinda's direction. "Dear, let's be honest, you're not going to eat that. Go wait in the library and find something constructive to do while miss pig here finishes up."_

"_Hey!" Theodora tutted with a mouthful of food as Glinda quickly slipped out of the kitchen and ran down the hall, ready for as much time alone as possible. She climbed on top of a desk, pulling the drawer open to reveal the paper and ink she'd hidden inside the day she arrived. Biting her lip again, Glinda began to scribe her feelings, ending with a flourish. With haste, she sprinted to the top, western tower of the castle, muttering a wish under her breath._

_She smiled with relief upon entering the room, spotting a Sprite in the corner. "Hello, friend."_

_The creature chirped, coming to sit on Glinda's shoulder, whispering in her ear. "Yes, I do have a favor you can do for me — thank you ever so much...Please see to it that this letter arrives to the Emerald City king. It's crucial that he gets this as soon as possible."_

_Glinda scurried back to the dining hall where Locasta had gathered Theodora. "Ah, good. We'll head out to the fields then. I want to test your elemental abilities."_

"_Our what?" Theodora questioned, raising a brow with attitude. "Can't we just learn spells? I thought that's what we were here for! So far all we've done is make stuff float. That's boring. And useless!"_

"_Don't get ahead of yourself, young one. All that I am doing is important to teaching you spells. But magic is much more than that." Locasta reached a hand for Glinda's. "Come, dear. You're up first." She led them outside, with Theodora trailing behind, skipping. "Alright," She muttered, lining Glinda up in the middle of a field, stretching the girl's arms out. Glinda blushed, feeling uncertain. "Now, I want you to gather up as much emotion as you can, love. Think of things that make you angry, sad, hurt— think of them, hold them in your heart, and let them out. Go on."_

_Glinda swallowed, shrugging. "I-I don't know what to think of."_

"_Think of the fact that you've got no friends," Theodora snickered from her spot, cross-legged next to Locasta. The older witch swatted her upside the head. _

"_Enough, 'Dora. I'll drop something wretched on you if you can't learn to be good."_

_The nine-year-old snickered, letting her dark hair fall in front of her face to hide her giddiness. "Glinda, love, what makes you angry?"_

"_Theodora," The blonde murmured, "And that my father left me here with you two."_

_Locasta nodded. "Fair enough. What makes you sad?"_

_Glinda bit her lip. "I-I guess that I never got to know my mother. And when my father leaves. And that I'll never be as powerful as you want me to be."_

"_Bring that all to your chest. Really feel all those things now, dearie. And...let them out!" _

_The young witch squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath as she tried to release the feelings to no avail. After nearly fifteen minutes of trying, she was soaked in sweat, red in the face, and feeling utterly miserable in her failure. "Okay, darling. Come have a seat. Maybe you aren't a strong elemental type — and that's okay. All witches are different."_

_Glinda scurried to sit behind Theodora, ignoring the girl's teasing faces. "'Dora, get yourself out there. Do the same thing."_

_Within seconds of standing, Theodora had lit a fire along the grass that was at least thirty-feet high. Locasta quickly extinguished it and congratulated the girl, giving an explanation of Theodora's magical type to the nine-year-old, who nodded along at understanding she had to control this ability—yes, she'd practice, she'd be safe, yes —yes...She turned to speak to Glinda, blinking when the little witch was nowhere to be seen._

_That night, Theodora snuck into Glinda's chambers, climbing into her bed and shaking her awake. "Hey, Glindy, did you seem me light a fire out there? Isn't it great how great I am at magic? Man it's good to be me," She snickered as Glinda blinked her brown eyes open, giving her half-cousin a shove. _

"_Get out of here, Theodora. You just got lucky. You'll never be able to control your magic anyway!"_

_Theodora crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. "Yes I will! I'll be able to control it so well that I'll be able to have a husband! And I'll be able to love him and everything because I'll be so good at magic! You'll see! You may be Glinda-goody-two-shoes, all blonde and pretty and charming, but I've got stronger magic!"_

_Glinda sat up and crossed her arms protectively. "What do you even mean have a husband?"_

_The brunette gave the princess a pointed look. "You mean you don't know about witches and you are one?" She gave a cackle. "You need to spend more time with my sissy. 'Nora told me all about witches."_

_The older of the two gave a sassy look, trying to act like she didn't care that she was uninformed. "Whatever. I don't care."_

"_Well you should care!" Theodora sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll tell you. Witches can't love, Glindy. Not if they don't have their magic under control. Their 'motions make it impossible to have good magic if they fall in love without total control."_

"_You mean emotions?" Glinda questioned._

_Theodora gave a great eye-roll once more. "Yeah, yeah. Well, if you can't handle yourself, you have to bind your soul to your husband before you can love him! It means you have to promise to only love him and someone performs a spell that means you can only love each other! It's pretty awful, I guess. But I'm not going to have to do that. 'Cause I'll have perfect control of my 'motions. And my magic." She smirked, shaking her head in a taunt. "And you won't. 'Cause you can hardly make any magic."_

_The blonde attempted to process the concept of soul-binding, vowing to ask her father for clarification when he hopefully came to pick her up in a few days. "My sister is pretty powerful, but she doesn't have good control over her 'motions. And she doesn't want to soul-bind. So she says she'll never fall in love. I'm not going to be like every other witch that's ever existed," Theodora announced, jumping off the bed and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to learn to control myself so that I can be in love. And you'll be alone. Lonely princess Glindy. No prince for comfort. Just rotten magical abilities." She laughed again before leaving Glinda alone to pull the covers back up over herself. _

_She was unable to fall back asleep as she mulled over her past few days of magical failure along with Theodora's new information. Was it possible for witches to fall in love? She'd seen her father alone for so long. He missed her mother, she knew. But he said he couldn't love someone else, that he didn't need to. He had his daughter._

_Still, she mused, being alone forever wasn't something she wanted, either. She wanted to be able to produce and control magic. She had to._

Glinda thanked Locasta quietly as the witch summoned a glass of water and handed it to her younger counterpart. "Do you believe that all witches truly have the potential for wickedness?"

"Oh yes," Locasta nodded, sitting beside the blonde, stretching her spine. "You know there are many ways for a witch to lose control of themselves."

Glinda stared at her reflection in the glass. Her hair was a knotted mess and face was greasy with sweat. "But, don't you think they have a predisposition one way or the other? What are the real chances I could become wicked?"

The older sighed and gave her student a long look. "If you were to lose control of your magic, I would say you could become wicked very easily. Thankfully, from the time you finally started producing quality, powerful magic, you've had a level head and decent capacity of emotion that allows you to keep that level head. I'd be worried, however, if your emotions ever really got the better of you. Your relationship causes me great concern. You know what it means for a witch to be in romantic love, Glinda. You know that it impedes your ability to control your emotions in the most dangerous way possible."

She gave a curt nod. "That's why I've been taking it slow. But you know? When he's around I feel like I'm even more in control of my magic." She smiled softly, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks. "It's like...he gives me the...boost that I need."

Locasta turned sharply. "That's not how it works, dear. Non-magical folks do not give us an enhanced magical ability. They decrease it, Glinda. Always. No matter how great or small of a decrease, it exists. Don't let visions of grandeur cloud this truth. It's a long-standing fact that cannot be changed no matter how much you might wish for it to be otherwise. The only way to prevent magical stamina and focus form fading when you are in love is with soul-binding. You have to understand that and the consequences of it!"

Glinda gave a great roll of her eyes. "I don't understand why it's such a big deal! My parents were soul-bound! Their magic was strong and focused! My father said that their love was great and he wouldn't have traded my mother for anything in the world."

Locasta gave a sneer. "Given that he already had everything in the world, I believe it would be difficult for him to truly make that statement. Riches. A palace. Magic. A beautiful daughter. He couldn't have wanted more. It was unfortunate that he was alone after your mother sacrificed herself. But it was for the safety of their people. They knew the risks of their relationship when they entered it and were eventually dealt the consequences. Soul-binding is no guarantee to happiness or a locus of control. You need to study the books I've got the Wizard reading this afternoon when you get the chance. It's not something you rush into." Her eyes fell into a far-away cloudiness. "Soul-binding is painful, dear. Don't assume that it will be the answer to your problems with loving the Wizard." Glinda was about to rebuttal, but Locasta refused to allow it. "Up, dear. You've much work to do before we're finished here."

* * *

_Glinda jumped into the king's arms as he arrived in her bedroom two days after elemental testing with Locasta. The old witch was far from pleased when he announced he'd be taking his daughter home, citing he didn't feel she was quite ready for producing the level of magic Locasta was expecting her to. She cried into his shoulder, clutching the back of his neck as he used a silent spell to have her things packed into a bag as he carried her to the front of the castle. They left with haste, neither in the mood for the elder witch's ramblings about emotional control._

"_Little love, we do need to do some serious work." The king whispered as the carriage he'd arrived in pulled them down the yellow brick road. "We will work together on practicing magic and emotional control. You really need to learn to respond to stress in ways other than crying. It's soon to be problematic."_

_She shrugged and nestled herself into his side. They were silent for a few hours as she dozed, unable to properly sleep because of all the tension she'd experienced over the past weeks. "Father?" She asked quietly, encouraged to go on by his heavy hand on her shoulder. "What does it mean to be soul-bound?"_

"_Ah," He sighed. "Love, why do you ask?"_

"_Theodora was saying that unless a witch can be in perfect control of her magic and emotions that she can never love somebody without soul-binding. Is it true?"_

"_Well, in a way. Soul-binding is what happens should two magical folk fall in love and want to marry without worrying about those emotions corrupting their magical ability. It's like a safety-net. It has some risks. But, for the most part...it's worth taking. Your mother and I were soul-bound. And while I can never love again in the way I loved your mother, it was worth the time we had. I hope that you find love, someday, Glinda. If you do, we'll talk more about what it might mean to soul-bind yourself with that lucky wizard." He winked and kissed the top of her head. "Worry yourself no more with these thoughts. You shan't have to consider this until you're much older."_

* * *

Glinda fell into bed that night, drained physically and emotionally from the long day of magical practice that forced her to relive some of her least favorite moments of childhood. She kicked off her shoes and rolled over onto her stomach, breathing heavily the lingering scent of Oz on his pillow. She sat up suddenly, curious as to where he might be. It was quite late and she couldn't imagine him studying for so long — unless...

Filled with concern, she sat up and made her way down the hall and up a floor to the library, where several lights were on and a stack of books was beside the sofa in the middle of the room. "Oscar?" She called, her heart beating twice it's regular rate.

"Hey," He responded quietly from a darkened corner, emerging into the dim light of the room with a book. "How was your day? You look drained."

Glinda nodded, swallowing hard as she shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to another as the dark-haired man stepped closer to her. "It was a really rough day. I'm magically exhausted." Oz stopped two feet in front of her, extending a hand to cup her face, giving a gentle smile. In it, she knew — he knew. His eyes gave away all the feelings he would love to hide. "You know, don't you?"

His expression dropped slightly and he gave a small nod of his head. "Have a seat, Glinda."

"No," She whispered, one eyebrow raised a little higher than the other. "Please, don't...don't let this information scare you, okay? We're going to make it work. We saved all of Oz together, we can figure a way out around this—"

Oz moved to grab her hand and tugged her gently towards the sofa, easing her down as he sat. He pulled the book Locasta had given him in the morning onto his lap, flipping through a particular section titled: _Love and the Witch_. "Why didn't you tell me, Glinda? This is very serious stuff that I don't think you can just brush off and hope that everything will be okay."

Glinda couldn't bring her eyes to meet his as they darted over the words on the first page of the chapter._ It is difficult for witches to express romantic love for a variety of reasons. The first of which is the precise emotional control it takes to regulate a witch's specific type of magic. Romantic love brings about a host of unpredictable feelings and urges that create tension within the witch's magical core._ _This tension is dangerous due to the possibility of impediment or loss of magical abilities, loss of magical focus, and loss of magical stamina. The combination of any of these three cause the witch to be overall less powerful and practical where their talents were otherwise needed. It is ill-advised for witches to express any sort of romantic love, especially physical components of intercourse. When the witch engages in such romantic activities, her core is exceptionally susceptible to a permanent loss of magical control. Without control of her magic, the witch is likely to turn to wickedness (page 324) and/or take on traits of mortality. _

"Do you understand why I'm a bit upset that you didn't share this with me? Glinda," Oscar sighed, rubbing a hand against his pant leg. "Whatever...relationship it is that we've found ourselves in...it's dangerous for you. What sort of partner would I be if I put you in danger?"

Clenching her teeth together was all Glinda could do to keep herself from screaming out in anger at Locasta for revealing this information to Oz. Had she any magical energy left from the day, she would have found the old witch and given her all the hell she could unleash — goodness be damned.

"Well," She said with a shaky breath. "You know why it's dangerous for witches to be in love. But did you also read what can be done to reconcile that?"

"Yeah," Oz whispered, scratching his cheek before turning the pages forward until he came to the title _Soul-Binding_. "And it sounds even more dangerous than trying to be in a relationship without doing it."

"Surely not!" Glinda nearly shouted. "My father and mother were soul-bound! My father said that their love was deeper than any other!"

"Your parents were both magical sub-types, Glinda. I'm a non-magical. Mortal — human. From a world that doesn't even exist in the writings of this book. But it does mention what soul-binding to non-magical folks in this realm does. In regular soul-binding, magical energy is actually increased after the procedure. There's no change in mortality for either partner. The only downside is that in the event of the death of one partner, the other doesn't have the ability to express romantic love to someone else. That's fine, it's...sweet, almost. But Glinda, read...read what it would entail to soul-bind yourself with someone who isn't magical."

The blonde nearly ripped the book out of Oz's hands as her eyes scanned the page he'd directed her to.

_While soul-binding with non-magical folk is possible and does not require a third party to seal the binding, it is not recommended for the witch. When with another magical being, the magical stamina, focus, and ability may increase. However, pledging one's soul to a non-magical being always results in a decrease in ability, no matter how small or large. Though the sealing will bring about the witch's ability to maintain her magical stamina and focus, it will also allow the witch to be susceptible to mortal ailments, including immune illness, aging, and death. Unlike soul-binding with magical folk, when one individual in the partnership dies, so does the other._

Glinda bit her lip and brought her eyes up to meet Oz. A lengthy pause rippled between them as neither could bring themselves to speak first. Finally, Glinda blinked rapidly and muttered, "I don't care about mortality. What is the point of living forever if you wind up old and alone?"

Oz sighed, bowing his head, knowing she was picturing miserable Locasta as she stated her position. "I don't know, Glinda. And...maybe you wouldn't care about whether or not you would be susceptible to death...but I do. And I couldn't live with myself for the next how-ever-many years I have left, knowing that if I die, so would you. I can't do it, Glinda. I can't bind myself to you knowing that I could bring about a loss of magic, illness, and death. You shouldn't have to deal with those things because of me." He pressed his lips together, closing the book and setting it on the floor in front of him before standing. "I wish you would have told me about this sooner."

Oz made his way to the door, leaving Glinda's expression to grow dumbfounded. He was a step away from having his hand on the doorknob when she jumped to her feet and transported herself in front of him, eyebrows knitted together, suddenly transitioning from devastated to furious. "You're telling me that you're willing to sacrifice all we've been through together in the past month because you are afraid of what _might_ happen _if_ we did decide to go through with this?"

His shoulders fell and he stuffed a hand into his pocket. "I'm not a fortune-teller, Glinda. I don't know what would happen. But I'm not willing to risk your health or ability or life because I've got a crush on you."

"A crush?" Her eyes widened and she stepped forward, forcing him back. "A crush? That's all it is. Just...school-boy feelings that will fade as soon as you walk out that door? Don't try to pacify me,_ Oz_!" He glared as she spat his nickname, prepared to argue with her when she shook her head and took a deep breath, forcing her expression to be gentler. "You're just...afraid. And...that's okay. I'm afraid, too. I don't know what direction this country is headed in and I don't know how much magical ability I have in me and how I can use it to the advantage of our people. But I do know that whatever happens, I want you to be there with me. I want to work with you. Don't tell me your feelings for me are less than that?"

Oz sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugged. "I-I don't know, Glinda. Any relationship I've ever had has been primarily...physical and short-lived. I can't promise that I even know what my feelings are at this point. Like you said, it's been a month. Most of it has been spent planning for battle or healing. We haven't really spent all that much time together in an environment that we could figure out our feelings."

Glinda swallowed another lump in her throat, the memories that had been surfaced with Locasta earlier in the day washing over her as he more-or-less stated he wasn't interested in spending a future with her. The images of inadequacy, uncertainty, and loss filled her and she saved her face as best she could before taking a brave step and heavy breath to wrap her arms around Oz, shaking her head against his chest, wishing more than anything that her arms were around her father in that moment, providing comfort she needed.

"No, Glinda," He whispered, pulling her off, holding her shoulders. "Being in a relationship with you would be the most selfish thing I could do. We can still work together for your people. But we can't do it in a romantic way. My feelings aren't reliable enough to risk your life. I'm sorry."

He dropped his hands and stepped around her, surprised when she let out a bolt of white magic without the use of her wand, removing the doorknob. "Glinda—"

She was angry again as she seethed, "_Our_ people, Oz. Not my people. You are their wizard. I am their rightful queen. They are our people. It's not just about you helping me figure this all out. It's about working together to do what's right. What's right isn't just to up and ignore any inkling you've ever had towards me. It's about working together to come up with a solution, whether that's soul-binding or not. You may not be ready to admit it, but — I love you." Her heart nearly fell out of her body as she admited it — out there, raw, vulnerable to disappointment. She continued regardless as she caught her breath after stating it, not daring to look into his eyes as she quietly affirmed her feelings, "I don't need more than a month with long walks down the yellow brick road or fancy dinners to figure that out. I love your ability to plan, and fix things, and come up with solutions, and help others. I love your goodness. Don't prove me wrong by throwing out all those great traits I've seen in you over the past few weeks."

Oz was clearly perplexed at her refusal to comply with what he thought he'd figured out and was prepared to articulate another argument when she threw herself at him again, only this time with her lips against his and one hand on his chest while the other wound around his neck. He closed his eyes and kissed her back before stepping away and forcing his way out the door.

* * *

Sorry this update took longer than the others did! I was hoping to have this posted before the two week mark, but alas — final projects and events caught up with me.

Thank you all for your continued feedback! I do believe I addressed all the misconceptions or suggested alterations from your gracious reviews in this chapter. That said, if your feedback from this chapter denotes that the concept of soul-binding (which, I admit, is not completely original — I've seen similar concepts within other magical verses and thought I'd adapt it to fit in Oz) is confusing based on the information from the chapter; I will likely post a piece about it that I will link in my profile page. I was hoping that the information on the concept was explained well enough in this chapter without being forced down the reader's throat — but I understand it may be confusing! Please let me know if you find it as such and I will do my best to provide clarification.

Chapter four, featuring a conflicted wizard, a wounded witch and a mess of magical drama, will likely be out sometime around May 4th. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Four  
**_If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a heart._

Electricity was heavy in the air around her as Glinda summoned spell after spell, finishing the series in a magical and deadly combination. She panted as she finished, feeling her magical reserves draining from the extensive use, but ready to carry on. Locasta clapped from the sidelines of their unofficial training field. "You're finally starting to figure it out, dear. You're performing like you've been practicing for ages."

Glinda couldn't help the tiny smirk of pride she felt tugging on her lips. "Are we going to work on healing magic soon? I feel like that's going to be a very valuable skill to have before I leave here."

Locasta pulled herself up to a standing position, nodding. "We'll begin this afternoon. You take a break to rest up. I've got to meet with the Wizard about some duties I'd like him to attend to over the next few days. Political nonsense."

The blonde felt her face twitch as she mentioned Oz. After the previous night's unfortunate ending to the conversation, she wanted nothing to do with the phony wizard. She knew before returning to the Emerald City they'd have to create a workable relationship; one that wouldn't involve the drama of a romantic relationship. However, they still had twenty-three days to solve that. She was more than willing to wait.

"Okay," She responded with a forced smile, a hand against her lower back. "I'm going to lie down." Transporting herself into the chamber of the castle that was originally going to be hers before she'd decided to stay with Oz, Glinda collapsed onto the plush mattress, burrowing her face against a pillow. She hummed to herself, a tune her father used to sing to her when she fell asleep, rolling over to stare at the ceiling while twirling a strand of blonde hair in her fingers.

She wanted so desperately to push the thoughts of Oz to the back of her mind, but she knew the effort was fruitless. He'd just be another individual to add to her list of those who'd left her life far too soon.

Wishing for a mother in that moment more than ever, Glinda let her mind wander to memories of her father discussing the woman she'd never met.

"_Daddy," Four-year-old Glinda pouted, her arms crossed over an overwhelmingly large pink bow in the front of her white dress. "You promised we could go outside today."_

_The king stretched in the chair of his study, closing both eyes before opening one to give a stern look to his only daughter. "Love, you know I have much work to do. And I never make promises because I don't want to break them, so no, I did not promise. I told you perhaps, if we had time we could go."_

_She stomped her foot, still not used to the slightly-more stern father that the king had become when Locasta had come by. "Can we go tonight then, before bed, maybe? We could look at the stars and you could tell me stories about mother like you did that one time?" Stepping closer to his desk, she rested her arms on it and tilted her head with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Please, daddy?"_

_Giving a loud sigh the king nodded. "Yes, love, we'll look at the stars tonight." Glinda smiled and tip-toed next to his chair, leaning up for a kiss, which he gladly returned. "Run off for now, and I'll come get you once the nannies have you fed and ready for bed."_

_Glinda gleamed and skipped out of the room, pleased to have her way __— __as always. She paused in the hallway when she came to a large portrait that stood proudly outside of the throne room. The painting had been done of her mother and father on their wedding night — her mother was beautiful; with long, blonde locks, identical to Glinda's own, with bright green eyes that could light up any room. Glinda only wished she'd been able to get to know the woman._

_True to his word, the king gathered a slippery Glinda into his hold that evening, her satin, pale-yellow nightgown causing him grief as he made way to carry her outside. She was in her glory, though, and it was worth his time and her missing a few precious minutes of sleep to spend it with her. _

_He summoned a blanket and spread it over the grass in the garden of the royal palace, pleased to note it was a clear night in the Emerald City. Laying out across the cotton fabric, he patted the space next to him for Glinda to curl up into. She snuggled a cheek against his chest and cast her wide brown eyes up to the darkened sky. "Daddy, do you think my mother is a star?"_

"_Hm," The king mused, curling strands of blonde around his index finger. "I don't think so, little love." For a moment, Glinda's face turned down, but up once more when he stated, "I think she's an angel. She's watching over you from that big sky, looking down and making sure you're growing up happy."_

"_I'd be happier if she were here," Her quiet voice mumbled. _

_The king sighed in response, "I'm sure, I'm sure. I'd be happier if she were here also. I miss her every day. She was such a special woman. She was so in love with you for the few weeks she was here with you. I have no doubt she is still lovingly protective of you. Even if we can't see her."_

_Glinda nodded against him. "Do you think she'd listen if I talked to her?"_

"_Yes, love," The king replied. "And when you feel a cool breeze wrapping around you, covering you for just a moment — I'm sure, that's her way of answering you and reminding you that she loves you."_

Glinda flipped back over against the bed, "What do you think of all this, mother?" She whispered, clutching at the collar of her off-white dress. "Do you think he truly is concerned about my well-being? Or was I just another woman for his collection?"

* * *

"Surely you understand why I wanted you to read the materials I set before you yesterday?" Locasta questioned Oz as he sampled the map of his new land that he'd discovered in his hunt for information the day before.

"Of corse," He sighed, throwing himself onto a couch. "I'm a bit touched that she didn't share it with me sooner. I wouldn't have let...things go as far as they did."

"Ah, well..." Locasta settled herself next to him. "You can't control how you feel about someone. But you can control how you choose to act on it. I didn't tell you all this to scare you away from our beautiful queen, but to caution you on what it would mean to be truly in love with her. Love is sacrifice, Wizard. You'd do well to remember that."

Oz was quiet as he dwelled on her statement. "If you want me to be with her, why would you tell me that it would kill both of us?"

"I did no such thing, dear." Locasta cleared her throat and summoned the book Oz had poured over the day before. "All I wanted by you reading this was to inform you. For the next few weeks I want to spend time getting Glinda as magically powerful and under control as possible. I want the two of you to develop a working relationship, not a romantic one. You two have the most important job in our land, and you need to be able to effectively share it. As partners in leadership, your people come above your feelings for one another. That's why I don't want you to rush into a romantic relationship. Not because I doubt your ability to love one another in the way required to be soul-bound."

"I wouldn't want someone to attach their soul to mine, though," Oz said with a great sigh. "I'm not as good of a person as Glinda thinks I am. The shady things that I've done in the past—"

"Are in the past," Locasta interrupted. "We know you're capable of selflessness. We know you're capable of sacrifice. That's all soul-binding entails. It's love, but deeper than that. There's been only two recorded cases of witch-to-mortal soul-binding, hundreds of year ago. It's an uncommon, but powerful love. It requires a great deal of strength and respect for your own life, as your partners is tied to it." The witch stood, nodding Oz to follow her out of the library. "But I believe that given more proper time to learn the fine details of one another, you and Glinda could be successful within such a relationship. Now, enough of the lovey-dovey. Time to get down to business. We've some guests coming after the lunch hour that you'll have to entertain."

* * *

With too much on her mind, Glinda decided to forgo the nap and instead focus on trying to bring life to a patch of dead grass in her training field. The difficult magic was probably another hundred years of experience down the road for her, but she was willing to try anything if it meant avoiding an awkward meal with Locasta and Oz. At the thought of a hundred years, she wondered for a moment, just how old she might grow to be if she wasn't to be soul-bound. Most of her life had been spent hiding in her father's shadow, without fear of taking the throne or becoming magically in charge of anything. The day she found her father's lifeless body was the first time a thought ever occurred that the responsibility of their land might fall on her shoulders. Until, of course, Evanora made it clear that no such task would be Glinda's to keep.

"_I'm growing quite tired of him not keeping appointments with me," A twenty-eight-year-old Glinda pouted as she turned to a maid who followed behind her. "You can go, I'll find him myself." The older woman gave a little bow before taking her leave. Glinda rolled her eyes, she's known the woman almost her entire life — there was hardly need for formality. "Thank you."_

_She huffed, turning towards her father's chambers. He'd missed their last two scheduled outings into the Emerald City. Glinda loved to meet people — especially the little ones. She, however, did not enjoy going out alone. People were pushy, always wanting to spoil her with gifts. Thankfully, the folks of the Emerald City weren't quite as bad as those in the royal family's summer palace in the South. The Quadlings were exceptionally overbearing. _

"_Father?" Glinda called as she stepped into his bedchambers, not bothering to knock. She poked her head around the doorframe, scanning the main room for any sign of him. "Father?"_

_She let her porcelain-hued heels clack along the floor, a long white skirt dragging behind them. _

"_Where are you..." She mumbled under her breath, daring to check the washroom. _

_Giving up on the royal chambers, she made her way through the kitchens, dining hall, throne room, and public study area before nearly being ready to surrender. Spotting a guard in the north hall, she questioned, "J'ohn, ave you seen the king?"_

"_He had a meeting with the Advisor this morning. They were in his study earlier."_

_Glinda rolled her eyes for the second time that morning. Just what she wanted — a confrontation with Evanora. The slick know-it-all who thought the only one fit to rule Oz was her. "Thank you, sir."_

_Making the trek to her father's personal study, Glinda forced herself to put on a charming smile — better to annoy Evanora as much she could, mostly for her own enjoyment. She pushed the heavy wooden door open, making her way to the front of the room, where the king was hunched over a stack of seemingly never-ending scrolls and treaties that needed to be looked at. "Surely you could save all those for this afternoon during your meeting with the council," She teased, coming closer, frowning when he didn't acknowledge her. "Father?" Suddenly breaking into a run, she fell to her knees next to his chair, gently shaking it. "Father!" She screamed for help, praying someone would hear her. Tears fell fast down her cheeks as she lifted his chin, unable to stop the sob that emitted from her throat at the blank, lifeless gaze in his eyes. She looked down, noting a pool of what she assumed was water on his chest and a cup on the floor. Shaking, she reached a hand to grab it, hissing in pain when the clear liquid burned her skin._

"_What..." Glinda sputtered, taking her father's hands into her own before letting out another loud cry. "Father!"_

"_What seems to be the matter, Glinda dear?" A familiar, twisted voice called from the front of the room as the owner of it made her way toward the dead king. "Daddy seem a bit unresponsive to you?"_

_The blonde looked up through a haze of tears, barely recognizing the wicked woman before her. "G-get a healer, please! Maybe there's...maybe there's something that can be done."_

_Evanora pressed a hand to her collar bone and gave a small cackle. "Oh, dear. It seems he's...croaked. What a pity. He was such an honest ruler, after all."_

_Glinda stared in confusion as red blotches of sadness appeared over her face and the visible portion of her chest. "Evanora? Please, use-use your magic! Do something! Why...why are...you..." Realization set in as the princess looked from her father to the cup on the floor back to the advisor. "You...you—"_

"_Me, me! Haha, oh dear, isn't this remarkable." She waved a hand at the doorway, and suddenly a gaggle of guards appeared and Evanora's face twisted into mock-grief. "Guards! The king! He's been poisoned!" Glinda squinted through her tears, attempting to figure out the witch's plan. "The king's own daughter..." The brunette sobbed into her hands. "How could you, Glinda?" Two of the guards rushed to the king's side, and Evanora shouted, "Arrest her!"_

_The younger witch fought against the men's hands as she sobbed, "He's my father! He's my father! You did this! I love him!"_

"_I did nothing!" Evanora shouted, her voice cracking. You're the one found with him! Hands covered in poison! Cup at your feet! You've wanted the throne to yourself! Well I intend on ensuring you shan't have it!" _

"_I never wanted the throne!" Glinda cried, "You've been plotting ever since my father received the prophecy! You knew you were the wicked one he spoke of! You've done this!"_

"_Take her to the dungeons!" Evanora commanded through a sob, reaching forward to tear Glinda's crown off the top of her head. "All of Oz will know what you've done, Glinda. Mark my words."_

She took a shaky breath, recalling the abysmal feelings from that day and pouring them into her magic. All her sadness and pain, wrapped around the magical heartstrings of her being and released through a powerful spell. "Ugh!" She grunted as she fell backwards from the force and breathed heavily as she summoned the energy to sit up and see if her goal was accomplished. About to channel her stomach muscles to an upright position, Glinda blinked in confusion as a hand appeared in her line of vision. Turning her head slightly to the left, she groaned at the sight of Oz, but accepted his assistance nonetheless. "I don't even get a whole day to be mad at you?" She sighed, standing at full height — almost six inches shorter than him without her heels on.

Oz nodded to the patch of grass that was significantly greener than the rest of it. "Rejuvenation spell?"

Glinda gave a tiny nod. "Any reason you're out here?"

"Came to collect you for lunch. We're supposed to have guests."

"Locasta couldn't have sent me a message?" Glinda mumbled, eying the now-living grass with a smirk. She was successful again.

Oz placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, earning a sharp look. "I know it would be asking way too much for you not to be upset with me. But I think it's fair, given you weren't planning on telling me—"

"I was!" She said insistently, tugging away from him and refusing to meet his gaze anymore. "I just...wanted you to get to know me first. So that you could make that decision when we decided if we wanted to be...more serious. Now you'll always have that in the back of your mind. It will always affect your perception of me and our relationship, no matter what it becomes...and to be honest, I didn't even know about the mortality component. I wasn't hiding it from you. I was simply ignorant."

She started to walk up to the castle, knowing she could transport both of them, but part of her wanted to hear what she knew he was going to say.

"Glinda, it's not like that," Oz stated, hot on her heels. "It's like I was trying to say last night. I do have feelings for you. Strong ones. But...I don't know what to make of them — I've never really had them like this before. And I'm not willing to jeopardize your life while I try to make sense of it all. I didn't mean that we could never be together, Glinda. I just...don't want to rush into something that might hurt you."

"I understand, I do. It just...I finally thought things were going right — everything was making sense and I was happy. It's been a long time since I was happy, Oscar. You brought that feeling back and then took it away again."

Her eyes sparkled with tears, but she refused to shed them. Oz took a few large steps until he was directly in front of her, whispering, "I want you to be happy, Glinda." He sighed, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I want to be happy, too. And the past few weeks, being here with you — I've been happy just to watch you succeed at magic. I've been happy to lace up your back brace and help you get up in the mornings before you were healed. I'd never really known such a simple acts could bring me such joy." He looked down at the brown grass and bit the inside of his cheek. "I want to continue to make you happy."

Glinda reached a tentative hand forward, taking his into hers, letting her anger wash away as he gave it a squeeze in return. "Then let's forget about soul-binding and magical control, alright? I'm doing okay as I am, with you here. I'm not slipping. In fact, I'm getting better. Who knows? Maybe those centuries old books are wrong about the mortal affect on a witch. Maybe we'll prove them wrong! But..." She took a step forward and used her free hand to cup his cheek. "For now, let's just be leaders of this land. I'll work on my magic, you work on your plans for restructuring the government, and we'll do it together."

He slipped his fingers out of hers to use both arms around her thin frame, hugging her tightly. She responded with her face turned into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply.

"Come on," Oz spoke softly against her blonde curls, always pleased to see them falling naturally with no crown perched on the front of her forehead. "Let's get us something to eat."

* * *

_Glinda lowered her head as the guards dragged her down to the dungeons in the belly of the palace that she had once felt so safe in. Her father had always warned her to never travel without her wand. And here she was — about to be a prisoner in her own home because she'd carelessly left it on her nightstand. Not that her magic was strong enough to overpower the guards anyway, but perhaps she could have created a diversion to escape from._

_She hardly had time to process everything that had happened in the short period of time from walking in on her father's lifeless body to the point where she'd been tossed haphazardly in a heap of a cell used to hold the Oz's most dangerous criminals. There were traces of feces which smelled worse than the royal stables in one corner and straw in another that she could only assume was used for a makeshift bed area. Barely able to see through a cloud of tears, Glinda forced herself to stand, clutching at the bars of her prison as one of the guards — the same one from the morning strolled near. "Please! J'hon! Evanora's lying to you! Do you really think that I could do this?" She sobbed, her face crumpling. "I love my father," She sniffed. "J'hon, please!"_

_The guard stepped closer to the gate, a smirk in place. "But you've always wanted the throne, princess. It's really no surprise that you've done what you have. After all, it could have been another hundred years or so before someone came along and did the king in. But you wanted it while you were young. So you took it by force."_

_Glinda shook her head in confusion, loudly declaring, "I've never wanted the throne! I never wanted to rule! My father was an honest, fair, and compassionate! Why would I want to overturn a king like that!"_

_J'hon shrugged, the grin still in place before he walked away and Glinda fell to the floor of the cell once more, crying loudly — in grief and disappointment._

"_Father," She cried, clutching the hem of her dress as she trembled. "Why would she do this?"_

"_It's a pity, really..." Evanora hissed as she appeared in the cell next to the good witch, who turned her face away from the royal advisor. "To see such a pretty princess brought to such...subservient conditions." She tapped her nails over her collar bone as she paced in front of the woman in white. "But I guess it's where a killer belongs." Glinda refused to acknowledge Evanora's presence or take her bait. Annoyed with this, the elder of the two appeared swiftly in front of the other, gripping her cheeks with a crazed expression. "Look at me when I speak to you, you little wench!"_

_Glinda let her tears dribble down to cover Evanora's hand, and she shook her head in the woman's grip. "You can't treat me like this," She whispered, squinting her eyes to avoid looking into Evanora's brown ones._

_The wicked witch cackled. "Oh, dear, but I can! Because Daddy's not here to save you anymore. Because..." She faked a pained face, "You killed him! The greatest king Oz had ever known...dead by the hand of his only daughter. A wicked witch if there ever was one!"_

_She gave another laugh before disappearing, leaving Glinda, to fall backwards against the rusted bars of her prison at the loss of Evanora's firm grip. She shook her head, trying to compose herself before giving into defeat and drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her face against them. _

_Time passed — easily hours, though the princess knew not how much, and a voice was suddenly broadcast across the city, through the pipes connecting a primitive sound-system. Though muffled, the blonde could make out Evanora's lies. "Dear citizens of Oz," Evanora started off, false sadness laced in her tone, "It is with a heavy heart I, the royal advisor, dare to inform you...the king has died."_

_She could practically feel the gasps of the soon-to-be horrified people of her land — feel the tears flowing down their cheeks, imagine the shaking of their shoulders as they would surely mourn. _

"_Sadder still, is the cause of the death of the king. After an investigation and the incriminating evidence it has been determined that...the princess of Oz, Glinda, the king's own daughter...had poisoned him this morning."_

_At this false accusation, Glinda mourned her reputation with a pound of her fist to the cold cement ground she'd yet to move from. _

"_I know, this unsettling news comes as a shock to all of us. In a move for power, the princess took the very life of the man she claimed to have loved so dearly. In wake of this tragedy, we have placed her under twenty-four hour watch in the dungeons, where she will remain until we make peace with our king, and begin her trial. A reminder to you all, the punishment for such a high crime...is death."_

_Glinda choked and brought her hand to her mouth as she mulled over all that had happened. Would she not be able to attend her own father's burial? Would she be chained to the courthouse floor like a common criminal?_

"_No!" She screeched, turning suddenly, standing and shaking the bars of the cell. "Please! She's a liar! She wants power, not me! Evanora is nothing more than a lion in sheep's clothes! Please! Please!"_

"_My, my is this a desperate display," Evanora criticized, shaking her head. "A woman gone wild in thirst of the throne. A cautionary tale, really..."_

"_Evanora, let me go!" Glinda cried, kicking at the base of the gate. "I've done nothing to deserve this!"_

"_Oh, haven't you?" The advisor crossed her legs to step forward, one hand curling around the bars, the other reaching forward to smooth an out-of-place blonde curl. "You've had it so...easy, Glinda. All these years — the precious princess — the first royal child Oz had seen in ages, born to a soul-bound couple whose love could never be separated...until, of course, your mother's tragic death...but regardless, you had a king for a father! Someone who never abandoned or neglected you, made you feel worthless or unwanted—"_

_Glinda shook her head. "I'm truly sorry for all the heartache you and your sister went through, Evanora. It's not fair what happened, but it's not fair to take it out on me —"_

"_Sure it is!" Evanora shouted, pulling the blonde locks she had her fingers wrapped around. "It's justice my dear. Your father could have taken me in, made me the princess. But no. He'd rather have his beautiful little blonde, charming, bubble of light lead the people of this land! Guess what, Glinda? I'm here to burst your bubble. And let you know that you will never," Evanora's face twisted from cruel to sinister in a millisecond as she summoned something in her right hand, then reached forward and grabbed at Glinda's neck with it. "Never rule the land of Oz. You have been deemed the wickedest witch in all the land, and have a bounty on your head worth more gold than the royal chambers could hold. You've no friends left in this city. All who live here believe you're a murderer. Oh, and your father is dead, in case you'd forgotten."_

_Evanora let go of the princess and Glinda's hands went straight to her throat as she gasped and tried to look down at a chain-like rope that was now there. _

"_It's a magical block. Invented it myself. That way, if you were to somehow get your hands on your wand, it'd be a useless stick to you. You've got no magic, no power, and no one left to save you. You're going to rot in this prison until the day comes for me to have you killed myself."_

* * *

Glinda followed Oz into the dining room, where she'd avoided any meals since arriving to the northern castle. "Can't we just eat in your room?" She questioned, only to be swatted at the back of her knees by Locasta's wand.

"You'll do as I say." The old witch smirked at the sight of them. "I see you've got your knickers unbunched, the both of you. Good. Just don't let yourselves get distracted while you're here. You've got three weeks of work left to do before I release you to the people of the Emerald City. Now, take a seat. Our visitors will be joining us any—"

"Wizard!" A small voice cried from the front walkway to the room. The three adults turned with unsurpassed smiles as an eighteen-inch tall bundle of energy came running in their direction with a winged assistant to boot.

Oz bent down to meet the small girl with open arms that she merrily jumped into. "What are you doing here?" He asked with a laugh as she nuzzled into his shoulder.

"I was at the palace last night when this little one showed up in the throne room, demanding answers as to why the two of you hadn't returned. I explained that you'd be gone for a few more weeks and she managed to convince me that wasn't acceptable."

China Girl giggled and reached her arms up for Glinda, who gladly took her for a gentle hug before the porcelain doll settled herself on the witch's shoulder. "The palace is great, but it's not so fun without my family there. Glinda! Is your back all better?"

The blonde nodded. "The fracture is gone. I'm sorry we can't be at the palace with you. In a few weeks, though, we'll be back. Locasta is teaching me some very important magic, and Oscar has to learn about the land of Oz before he can rule it. We'll do something special when we return, though. Worry not."

Finley had engaged Oz in conversation about caring for a seven-year-old made of glass. "We need to visit China Town and see what we can salvage. It's been tough trying to accommodate for her size. She doesn't want to go to school because she can't use the materials there."

Oz rubbed his beard and contemplated this. Surely they could remedy the situation to make his pseudo-child more included. "We'll see what we can do, Finley. I appreciate you taking care of her while we're gone."

The monkey gave a little bow. "It's been a pleasure. She's a handful, but..." Both males looked to the orphaned girl who was chatting animatedly with a responsive Glinda. "I think you'll see what I mean when you spend more time with her. She's asked Locasta if we could stay for the duration of your visit here. I suggested we not, but no formal decision was made."

The small, strange collection of family members found themselves settled around the table. Glinda enchanted a chair for Finley to reach the table and Locasta transformed another for China Girl to be seated at the top of the table between Glinda and Oz. For their hour lunch break, everything was perfect.

* * *

"Sister, do you think it wisest to strike when they're all together?" Theodora questioned as her long, black fingernails scraped the crystal ball the wicked sisters had brought into their castle hidden deep in the dark forest.

"Of course," Evanora said with a smirk, her pale skin back to it's flawless complexion after Theodora had fashioned a pair of ruby red slippers to host the older witch's magic. "You should have seen her devastated little face when she walked into her father's death." Her eyes closed as she relished the memory. "It will be just as enjoyable a second time around. This time, Glinda will be the only good one left. It's only a matter of time before the pressure takes hold and crushes her." She swirled a glass of wine.

"It will be a sight to see," Theodora joined her sister with a smile. "Do you think this will affect the wizard as well?"

"We can only hope. Now that he's taken on this...pathetic, mortal form — whatever it is, it's just about guaranteed that when Glinda loses her mind, he will shed this shell."

The green witch thought for a moment before stating, "What if it's possible to kill him in this form and just not the other? He's quite a man in this one. A man who can die just like all men do."

"Don't let your thoughts cloud the mission, dear. We're after Glinda. The way to do that is by cutting off her resources. Locasta is the single greatest resource she has. Once we take that away from her..." She sipped the last bits of her beverage before shattering it between her fingers, "She breaks."

* * *

"_Glinda," Theodora greeted her half-cousin with a nod. "Why did you do it?"_

_Glinda looked up from her spot on the straw where she'd been laying for almost two full days. She hadn't eaten or drank since the morning she found her father. Her vision was blurry from constant hours of tears, but she wouldn't give into this little witch's taunt. _

"_When Evanora told me...I couldn't believe it," The green-eyed one shrugged, grasping at the bars with her forehead resting between two of them. "You never wanted power. You just wanted to grow up and find someone to love you." Theodora blinked rapidly, "What happened?"_

_Finally acknowledging the other witch's presence, Glinda forced herself to sit up slightly. "You're brainwashed, too. I suppose I'm not surprised. You've aways bought 'Nora's lies." Her mouth was parched and her lips chapped. "But if there's any goodness left in you, you'll bring me something to drink, in the very least." Glinda blinked hard, sighing. _

_Theodora made a long observation before disappearing. Glinda couldn't help but roll her eyes — she doubted if she'd ever see the ditzy girl again before her execution. _

_So she was surprised when some ten minutes after her exit, Theodora returned with a tray. Glinda pulled herself to sit all the way up, grimacing at the sight of the girl. "What are you doing?"_

_Theodora knelt and slid two glasses of water through the bars of the cell, then a small bowl of oats and fruit. "Don't drink it too fast, you'll probably make yourself sick."_

_The blonde shook her head in confusion. "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Your father was a compassionate man. I will honor that memory by showing compassion to his daughter, even if she was the one who was his undoing. Besides," She shrugged, twisting her legs to the side to sit. "We have a judicial system in our land for a reason. It is up to a judge and jury to determine whether or not you are guilty. Only they can decide whether or not you deserve death. My sister can't impose that on you through starvation or dehydration. I'll talk with her to ensure she knows this." _

"_Plotting with the enemy?" Evanora's voice slunk through the stone-wall chambers, causing Glinda to look up from the cup she'd just brought to her lips, then to consume it quickly in fear of losing the refreshing beverage. "Theodora, I'm shamed to call you my sister!"_

_The youngest witch in the room blinked rapidly, attempting to come up with a good reason as to why she was showing kindness to the presumed killer of the king._

_Glinda filled in for her, "She was just affording me the decency my father showed all of his prisoners, that's all."_

_Evanora made a gesture in preparation to mock her sister, but thought better of it. "Sister, I suggest you head back upstairs and not return to this dungeon until the princess is sentenced. There's no need to glorify her."_

_Theodora gave a tentative nod before meeting Glinda's sad eyes. She vanished as quickly as she had come, retreating up the stairs and leaving the prisoner with the royal advisor._

"_So, you've managed to convince Theodora that you're not guilty, hm? Don't worry, that'll pass. She believes anything I tell her — she's dumber than a whole flock of flying monkeys."_

_Glinda didn't give into the temptation of responding to the claims made by the witch. Rather, she ate as quickly as she could, forcing herself to swallow bite after bite of the soggy oats before Evanora would take it away. _

_Sure enough, the dish disappeared from her hands, gone in a snap of Evanora's fingers. "You'll eat when I give you permission to do so."_

_Not a minute after the true murderer disappeared, Glinda's stomach flopped and the entire contents of her first meal in days were on the floor before her. She cried at the sight of the mess, about ready to will her organs to simply start shutting down rather then give in to the sickening pleasure Evanora was receiving in her torture. _

* * *

China Girl made herself comfortable as she observed Glinda's magic in action. Locasta had her running a sequence of spells in drill, time and again until she'd all but used every last stroke of magical energy within her. "You're amazing, Glinda!" The seven-year-old cheered, clapping her hands together as the blonde came staggering towards her, collapsing in an ungraceful heap with an outstretched hand for the small girl to take. "I wish I were magical, too!"

"Oh, no you don't, little one," Locasta said with a laugh. "It's far more trouble than it's worth, my dear."

"Surely it's no more trouble than to be made out of fine china," She mumbled. Glinda sat up, still trying to regain some energy, but ready to provide her undivided attention. "It's not so bad when everyone is fragile, like my home was. But I don't really know how to explain myself to the people in the Emerald City."

Glinda pulled the small child into her lap, providing her best smile. "You don't need to explain yourself at all. Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind. You are who you are and there's no changing that. You can only change how you feel about it and how you react to it."

China Girl blinked and gave a shy smile. "You sound like you've heard that before."

"Growing up a witch wasn't easy. The land of Oz is full of some very hurtful, very judgmental people. You just have to let all that negativity roll off you like water off a duck's back. It gets easier when you get older."

China Girl sighed and shrugged. "I didn't mind being myself when I lived with my mother and papa. But now...It's just different. I don't want to be the last of the China people. I'd rather be a Quadling. Or a Munchkin. Or...anyone else. Anyone that has more than one."

Locasta stole a glance down at Glinda. "Little love, there's plenty of magic I could work to make that happen for you. But you should be proud of who you are. It's like Glinda said, it will get better. You don't want to make a decision now that will affect you forever."

"But..." She muttered, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "I want to look like I belong with my new family. I don't want to have to have someone pick up my books at school or worry about stepping over me or even just falling. I want things to seem normal."

The good witches both exchanged looks. "Let's think about it, okay? If we really want to do this, I can make it happen in a very short amount of time before you're to head back to the Emerald City. We should talk to the Wizard before making any decisions."

China Girl brought her hands together and stood up, rocking on her toes. "So that's a maybe?" She gleamed, her smile brighter then Glinda had ever seen.

The blonde sighed and stroked the small girl's cheek with her fingertip. "Maybe."

* * *

_It had been nearly two weeks since Glinda had been trapped in prison. While she had been fed, the food hardly passable for pigs, let alone humans. She was filthy, thin, and exhausted simply from living. While she tried to remain strong emotionally, there were times in the day where she wondered how long it would take of refusing food before she'd actually starve; how long it would take for her necessary body functions to fail. Then, at least, she'd be reunited with her father instead of rotting away in his dungeon._

_The night before, she'd been delirious. For a moment, she'd reached out a hand, and swore she felt another closing around it. She squinted in the darkness, swearing the outline of a figure was present. "Mother?" She'd whispered, a relieved smile washing over her, "Are you here for me?"_

_But the presence of the former queen was only a figment of Glinda's imagination. There could be no such ending in her position. She'd long given up crying — both tears and calls for help. The only person who felt sorry for her was herself, and certainly, no one was coming to aid her._

_That's why, as evening of the fourteenth day crept close, she was surprised to hear tapping against the walls of her cell. She sat up on her straw bed, daring to crawl closer to the sound coming from her right. She tapped back, unaware of a specific pattern that would be used for communicative purposes. Suddenly, a blast occurred and a small hole appeared to her side. Covered in dust, Glinda coughed weakly and dared to sit up, suddenly feeling tears of relief stringing down her face as she caught sight of a familiar face. "Knuck!" She whispered, forcing her hand through the small wall. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Emerald City Underground — reporting for duty!" He smiled gently. "Sorry it took us so long. It's been something awful trying to navigate these old prisons."_

_Glinda wiped at her face as two other munchkins chiseled away at the spot to make the space large enough for Glinda to climb through. "What are you doing here? You...you think I'm innocent?"_

_Knuck tilted his head. "As if you could have done such a thing? For the people of this city to believe that nonsense is despicable. Don't worry, we've got your back, princess. All of the Quadling Country knows of your innocence. You'll be safe there."_

_Glinda nodded. "In my father's summer castle?"_

"_It's all set up for you," Knuck responded and waved her forward as the other Munchkins finished the demolition job. "Hurry up now, we've got about a two hour window before the burial service is over. Most of the royal guard is there, along with Evanora and Theodora. We have six miles to cover underground before we'll be truly safe. We had a few of our league pack you a bag with your wand. Do you think there's any chance you'd be able to transport us to the Quadling Country?"_

_The witch looked down, knowing even if she hadn't lost her magic, she'd be nowhere near powerful enough to relocate so many. "I'm afraid not. I actually need to go up towards the Winkies." Knuck gave a confused expression and Glinda sighed, continuing. "This...choker blocks magic. I need to find the witch of the north, Locasta. I hope she can remove it...and who knows? Maybe she'll be able to figure out a way out of this mess."_

_They hurried through a series of tunnels, most of which Glinda had to crawl through due to her stature. "Glinda, I hate to tell you this, but you have to move faster," Knuck encouraged as they made their way to a fork in the path, taking the right lane. "Time is not on our side here!"_

_She nodded, pressing forward as quickly as she could on her hands and knees._

_It was some time before a light at the end of one of the tunnels appeared, so bright that Glinda could hardly stand it, given she'd been kept in darkness for two weeks. A gathering of Munchkins was waiting outside of the tunnel, on what looked to be the outskirts of the city. "Change in plans!" Knuck addressed the group. "Glinda has to go to the north witch in Winkie. I'll go with her—"_

"_No!" Glinda shook her head, earning the looks of all those who'd worked so hard to rescue her. "You've done enough, Knuck. I'll go on my own. I truly appreciate all you've done for me, but I don't want to put you in any more danger. I can make it on my own."_

_Knuck took her hand. "Just because you can doesn't mean you have to. You don't have your magic, Glinda! What if Evanora finds you?!"_

_She bent down to his height, feeling her ribs shift uncomfortably as she did so. "I'll find a way, Knuck. Thank you all, for everything." Accepting her bag of clothing, wand, and other necessary items, Glinda made her way up the road toward the route that led to the poppy fields, which she intended on avoiding completely. _

_Traveling without incident until far into darkness, Glinda made herself a small camp in the Enchanted Forest, praying for a sprite or fairy to appear to magic her into the Winkie Country. She opened her bag, wanting to see her wand for herself, and felt a small smile at the sight of neatly wrapped bread and a pouch that contained water. Savoring the snack, Glinda ate only a quarter of the wheat and sipped at the water; not wanting another incident of sickness. Continuing to dig through the bag, she refolded a few simple dresses the Munchkins had packed along with necessary undergarments, then gave a silent squeak of appreciation as her crown appeared next to her wand at the bottom of the luggage. _

_Fitting the crown at the top of her forehead, she smiled. Despite her bones looking as though they could burst through her skin and being dirtier than she'd ever been, in that moment, she felt like herself again._

_Waking up the next morning to the first signs of sunlight, Glinda forced her crown back in her bag and made her way through the forest, stopping only twice to rest and eat. By night fall of the second night, she was at the place of her least favorite childhood memories. With a composing breath, she knocked loudly on the front of the castle door, her head bowed in preparation for the reaming she might receive from the crazy witch._

"_Glinda," The woman said with a warm grin as she opened the front door, her flawless complexion glowing and blonde locks tied up in a bun. With a burst of a sob, the younger witch fell forward, forcing a hug of relief onto the older. Locasta chuckled and patted Glinda's back, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her greasy head. "Now, now, dear. Come in, come in. We've much to discuss, I'm sure."_

_The blonde sniffed and nodded, following the old bat into the second-floor study. When they arrived, Locasta examined the chain around Glinda's neck with a perplexed look. "A magical block, hm? That Evanora's become more powerful and crafty then I anticipated she would. It's a shame she can't use her powers for good. Ah, well. Take a seat, dear. This might be a painful process."_

_After several attempts, the choker finally came off and the force of feeling her magic surging through her body once more, Glinda fell forward as her whole body shook at the sensation. "Now, dear. You smell as though you've been living in a farm for a month. I'll send you to your old chambers for a bath and I'll join you when you're done with a proper meal. We'll talk about how to proceed then."_

_With a mumbled thanks, the princess made her way to the washroom in the chambers she'd spent as little time as possible in as a young girl. Drawing hot water and shedding the musty, dingy clothing she'd been in for two weeks, she sighed with utmost relief upon stepping into the oversized tub. When finally through scrubbing her skin nearly raw, Glinda changed into a simple frock she located in the attached bedroom's closet, not bothering with how it hung awkwardly against her frail body. _

_Locasta had set up a small feast in the corner of the bedroom, which Glinda wanted to devour completely, but took her time eating. "I was wondering what we might do to fight Evanora?" She finally asked, daring to look up from her plate to Locasta's blue eyes._

"_Dear, you heard your father's prophesy as clearly as I did. You'll wait for the Wizard to arrive."_

"_It's not as though he gave us a timeline!" Glinda whined, shaking her head. "It could be ages! Everyone in the Emerald City thinks I'm a murderer and wants me dead! Evanora could come after me any time! You have to help me!"_

_The older of the two shook her head in return. "It's not about you, dear. It's about the people of Oz. Your people. They need you, but they need to you to trust in the fate that will befall us all in good time. I refuse to start a war that neither of us have the power to finish. Challenging Evanora and her sister would be one of the dumbest things either of us could do, single-handedly or even together. You're years away from the magical training or experience you'd need."_

_Glinda's eyes shone with a combination of hope and disillusionment. "But...you could do it, Locasta! You're one of the strongest witches to ever have lived! I've seen you do amazing things and I've read about you doing greater!"_

_The woman folded her hands and muttered something under her breath, her blonde hair suddenly disappearing and flawless skin turning into something like old leather. Glinda sat back, confused. "Dear, I am nearly six hundred years old. I do not have the energy to accomplish something as taking an entire kingdom from one of the wickedest witches who surely has lived in this land. I believe in the words of your father's prophesy. A great Wizard will arrive in this land. Your people will be saved. You need to believe it, too!"_

_Glinda refused to let her tears shed as she stood up, begging, "Please, please, Locasta, I can't just be idle here. I've never taken much initiative before, but now I have no choice."_

_Locasta stood, her back now hunched over in her true state. "I've said my piece on the matter. We need to head to the Quadling Country, though. Before Evanora arrives there to cause terror and convince the people that you've done wrong. I'll put up an enchantment to keep the area safe. But that is all I will do for you at this time."_

_Frustrated, Glinda let out a scream as she began to cry, "If you won't help me then you're just as wicked a witch as she is! For you to let this happen when there is something you could do about it is—mmph!" She was thrown back by a wave of magic from Locasta's wand. She sat up, pushing on her palms, and gave the woman a horrified expression. "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Because dear, I will not tangle with fate. I know that in time, all will be well. Now stand up, brush yourself off, and be ready to show some strength in the face of your people."_

* * *

Glinda tucked China Girl's blanket up around her, smiling pleasantly down at the little girl; every maternal bone in her body was practically breaking in excitement at the action. "So are you and the Wizard going to be married soon?" The small girl asked, earning a loud sigh as Glinda plopped herself down on the bed next to her.

"Good question," The witch teased. "We're not really in any sort of relationship outside of friendship right now, dear. We both care for each other...but it's complicated. We both know that romance can't come before ruling the land of Oz. I guess things are sort of on hold, at least while we're here. I need to focus on my magic and he needs to worry about creating the groundwork for the type of government he wants to run."

"I understand." She gave a sneaky smile as she tucked her hands under her head. "Just remember, when the time comes, I make a very good flower girl."

Glinda laughed and bent to press a kiss to her porcelain forehead. "Goodnight, little one. Dream of sweet things."

She extinguished a candle with the tilt of her head and proceeded out the door, stretching her arms up with a yawn. It had been an exhausting day — physically and emotionally. Days when she thought of her mother, her imprisonment and subsequent torture were always difficult. She hoped to see Oz for a touch of comfort before he made his way to bed for the night, but she was fairly sure she wouldn't make it. He was supposed to be meeting with local rulers in the Winkie Country until late in the evening. Surrendering to her exhaustion, Glinda made her way to her chambers.

To her pleasant surprise, Oz was perched at the edge of her bed, pouring through a manuscript — so consumed in it he didn't even notice her until she cleared her throat as she made her way to him with a smirk. "Good evening," She started, standing hardly a foot in front of him, earning his chocolate-colored eyes to her own. The little white kitten from several days previous appeared from behind him and she cooed before picking it up to cuddle it close to her chest; kissing the crown of it's head before addressing Oz once more, "How was your meeting?"

"Went well." He cracked his neck before patting the space next to him where Glinda took a seat after folding her dress under herself with one hand, placing the baby cat on her lap and squishing it's face playfully. "The Winkie leaders seem very receptive to the idea of a representative government. They were all willing to meet at the times I had designated, both with the people they stand for and coming to the Emerald City quarterly."

Glinda placed a hand on his back, giving a beaming look. "I knew you'd persuade them. My father was a very great ruler, full of compassion. But he wasn't very good at monitoring the progress of the smaller areas. That's how so many of them have been so impoverished for so long."

Oz leaned into her hand, relishing the comfort the simple gesture provided. "It's good to know I'm doing something right. I feel like I've messed up so many other times in my life...I really want to do this one justice."

"Well, I believe justice is being served," She grinned, letting her body collapse backwards with a satisfied groan, the kitten walking up her to snuggle into the hollow part of her neck, causing her to laugh. "Feels good to lay down."

The Wizard raised a brow as she curled her legs up under her backside. "Gonna stay there all night?" She closed her eyes and gave a playful nod. Oz reached forward to scoop the little white ball of fluff into his own hands, nuzzling his nose against the animal's. "We had a cat when I was a kid who used to curl up on the edge of my bed. Annoying thing. I could never move my feet."

Glinda shrugged, leaning forward and picking at the hem of her dress. It was quiet for a few beats before she changed the subject, "You know...it took me awhile to be grateful, but I'm glad we're here. Locasta has so much she can teach me, and you. I'm thankful you convinced me to come here to be healed in the first place. She's such a great resource of information. I wish I'd realized that sooner in my life."

"In hindsight..." Oz started, turning a bit so he was facing her more fully, letting the kitten down to wander on the bed, and undid the top two buttons of his dress-shirt to breathe a little easier. "Everything happens for a reason, right?"

She gave a nod and then yawned. "I suppose. It's easier to make sense of life's tragedies when you finally figure out the reason for them. I mean...If my father hadn't died, his prophesy couldn't have been fulfilled." Reaching for his hand, she gave it a little squeeze. "Then you wouldn't have come here to save us all and change things for the better."

He gave her hand a tight squeeze in return before standing and stretching with a yawn of his own. "I think my bed is calling my name," He said, shaking his head in attempt to stay awake to make it there. Gently, he patted her legs. "Goodnight, Glinda."

She pouted a little, some irrational part of her brain had been hoping he'd stay with her for the night. "Goodnight, Wizard." He extinguished a candle, scooping the baby cat up and making his paw wave good-bye. Glinda crawled up to the top of the bed, bundling up in the blankets with a loud sigh. After everything — the death of her father, the accusations made against her, imprisonment, torture, neglect — she had been happy to finally have a warm body to curl up against at night.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she forced herself not to cry. She'd spent too much time crying. Rather, she closed her eyes tightly, whispering to the presence she hoped was with her, "Mother, please...let this time pass quickly. I need to be with him. I don't want to be alone anymore." When no cool breeze wrapped itself around her, Glinda swallowed hard and burrowed her face into her pillow.

* * *

"Damn her," Theodora mumbled, shaking her head and turning away from the crystal. "Sister, Let's strike, tonight. I'm tired of watching this charade. Every time I think she is set back, something wonderful happens for her! It's not fair!"

Evanora rolled her eyes, taking a sip of ale straight from it's container. "Then stop watching. It's imperative we follow through as I have planned. I want Glinda to think she's at the height of her power. You know how damn emotional that bumbling blonde gets. She'll be unable to control her magic. She'll strike out at the innocent. She'll be as useless as her father was before her. The Wizard, unable to take anymore, will be ethereal once more. Without him, she'll be as useless as she was chained to the palace. This time..." She drank again, giving a little laugh. "This time she won't have anywhere to go to recover from our strike. This time, when we're through with her, she won't be breathing again."

* * *

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, NothingIISay for getting me through it, as always. She helped me to re-write the majority of this chapter, over 6,000 words worth, which is why there was such a serious delay in posting.

A few comments have been made about Glinda's canon use of magic as they relate to this story. After seeing Oz: TGAP for the seventh and eighth times since starting work on this chapter, and revisiting the previous ones — I truly do think I have it right. You can sense in the movie (after you've seen it enough times, anyway) that Glinda is unsure of her magic. She knows she is nowhere near powerful enough to overcome Evanora, which is why she hadn't tried. This creates her sense of insecurity you see in her face whenever her wand is outstretched, especially at the end. This is why I have laid the back story out as such that she never received the training she needed to master the power she has.

As you may have noticed, I would love for China Girl to become a real girl a la Pinocchio. However, my beta was in disagreement for this to occur. If you chose to leave feedback, perhaps you could express one way or the other **if you think it's more appropriate to leave her as a China doll or to become a mortal**? I see arguments for both ways — but you are the ones reading this! Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments!


	5. Chapter 5

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Five  
**_Never question the truth of what you fail to understand, for the world is filled with wonders._

China Girl took her time wandering down the halls as she waited for everyone to wake up. Her tiny, porcelain feet made almost no noise as she stepped over the cobblestone flooring, stretching her arms over her head, wondering if she should try waking the Wizard or Glinda. She hummed quietly to herself, passing Oz's room, peaking into the cracked door and frowning when she saw the bed made up already. She pulled the door open as far as she could, squeaking in surprise when a little white kitten ran past her with a _meow_. Squinting at the creature in confusion, she made her way fully into the bedroom chambers, calling out for Oz.

"Just a minute!" She heard his voice from behind a closed door and drew her hands to her chest in excitement. As he said, within the next sixty seconds he was out, dressed in suit pants and a crisp, white top. "Good morning," He grinned, bending down to be closer to her height. She climbed onto his lap to reach for a hug, which he gladly returned. "Sleep well?"

China Girl nodded, climbing down to let him finished getting gussied up. "No nightmares last night."

"Glad to hear it," Oz nodded, fixing a bow tie around his neck before sliding his arms into a vest and buttoning it at record speed. "Locasta woke me up this morning to inform me that Finley and I need to be in the High Munchkin Town by six this evening, so I'm in a hurry. Could you go wake Glinda up for me?"

"Sure," The little one nodded, making her way out of the room, pausing at the door. "Um...am I going to stay here?"

Oz nodded with a smile. "Yes, maam. You can spend some time with the girls for the next few days while we're gone."

China Girl forced a smile. "Do...do you think that..." She hesitated, shaking her head. "Never mind!"

The Wizard gave her a look and paused his rush to pay attention to her. "It's okay, you can ask," He reassured, bending down to be closer to her small stature again.

She rubbed the top of her arm, pressing her lips together before questioning, "Do you think that Glinda will...help clam me down if I have a nightmare? I...I don't like to be alone when that happens."

Oz tilted her chin up and winked. "I assure you she will, kiddo. She may be the queen, but she does truly care about all of her people. Especially her favorite ones."

China Girl smiled and turned to leave. "I'll go wake her, then."

She crept back down the hall, remembering that Glinda's room was right next to Oz's on the other side. She pushed the door open with a grunt, giggling at the sight of a disheveled witch in the form of a lump in the middle of the bed. Climbing up on the bed skirt, she heaved herself to the top of the mattress, trying not to laugh again at the sound of Glinda's slow and heavy breathing as she laid on her stomach — near snores, as the witch remained blissfully unaware of the little girl's presence. China Girl studied Glinda's face before working on waking the woman up, smirking at the way her pink lips were slightly parted and long eyelashes grazed her cheeks. She was a truly beautiful lady.

Gently, not wanting to startle her, China Girl placed a hand on Glinda's shoulder, giving a shake. "Glinda, the Wizard needs you. Time to wake up." Not getting any response, China Girl shook harder. "Glinda...Glinda!" She chuckled, and the sound was enough to cause the witch to stir for a moment, but only to turn her face to the other side and continue snoozing. "Honestly," China Girl grinned, climbing onto Glinda's back and whispering in her ear. "You have to wake up, sleepyhead!" Glinda groaned and swatted sleepily at the girl who climbed off and bounced on the queen's pillow until her eyes were open, though barely as she forced herself to sit up on her elbows, her forehead crumpled in confusion. "Good morning!" The animated doll cheered, clapping her hands together.

Glinda gave a grunt of a response, falling forward and mumbling into her pillow before stretching.

"The Wizard is going on a trip for Locasta. He has to leave right away and wants to see you before he goes," China Girl reported. Glinda gave another dramatic groan before rolling out of the bed, offering a tired hand to the girl, helping her down. Tugging on a robe that was out on her desk chair, she shuffled down the hall, China Girl hot on her heels.

"Well, good morning, beautiful!" Oz laughed at the sight of Glinda, hair tussled and eyes blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the morning. "Something like waking a dragon, I suppose?" He offered to China Girl, who nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

"Dragons are nastier," Glinda quipped, her first remark of the day as she crossed her arms over her chest with a yawn. "What's the old bat got you doing for her?"

Oz spoke while feverishly packing his bag, Finley at his side, offering assistance. "Meetings with the High Munchkin townies and elders starting around supper tonight."

The witch in the room took a seat on the bed, next to where he was packing, reaching down for China Girl when she motioned to be assisted up as well. "Is she transporting you there? You'll never make it by foot."

"Carriage. We've got supplies for them, I guess. I don't know all the details yet," he said with a smirk.

Glinda nodded and fell backwards melodramatically so her face was in Oz's pillow.

Finley remarked, "You know, for someone as sunny and cheerful as you, Glinda, I'd have picked you as a morning person."

"She's a free spirit," Oz teased, squeezing her knee, earning a squeak as she sat up, frumpy as ever.

"I can't be tamed," She yawned once more as the Wizard closed his bag. "Ready to head out?"

He took the handle and nodded, offering her a hand to stand up. She placed China Girl on her shoulder and Finley followed them out of the room, down a staircase and to the main entrance hall, where Locasta was waiting with a team of Gillikin folks. "Oh, Glinda, you can't make yourself presentable in the mornings?"

Oz wrapped a friendly hand around her upper arm opposite China Girl, joking, "That would involve waking up at a decent enough hour to do so." She slugged his ribs and he repented before passing his bag to one of the Gillikin servants who was much obliged to take it. "Alright, ladies," He stood before both of the important women in his life, addressing China Girl first, who leapt onto him for a long hug. "Take care, kiddo." He pecked the top of her head before putting her down. Leaning forward he whispered to Glinda, "Be ready for nightmares." She was about to question why, then looked down at the little one below them and closed her lips in an 'o.' "I have to admit," Oz muttered, "I'm actually nervous to be headed somewhere without you," He shrugged and Glinda tilted her head in questioning. "We've been together since we met. You've been the one to teach me about this land. I'll miss you. Really."

She reached a hand forward, rubbing his arm affectionately. "You'll be fine, Oscar. You're a great wizard, and a good man. Be yourself, and be honest. Don't hog all the attention," The blonde instructed, a smile washing over her as she leaned forward, "And be strong, like I know you are."

Oz paused, taking one of her hands as he realized her words simply canceled out all she'd said about him when they first arrived by bubble at her castle. "I'll do my best."

"That's all I'll ever ask," Glinda nodded, reaching forward to adjust his top hat. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Come on, _great and powerful one_," Locasta croaked from the doorway, "Today."

He waved a finger in the air, requesting just a moment longer. "Good-bye, Glinda." The Wizard took a step forward and planted an innocent kiss on her cheek and turned in a cool fluster out the castle door. China Girl burst into uncontrollable giggles as he left, and Glinda couldn't fight the blush that stained her cheeks. Locasta waved them both to the dining hall, where she'd already spread out a breakfast for Glinda and assembled a seat for China Girl, who did not need food, but would always be welcome at mealtimes.

"That baboon is so head-over-heals with you," The older witch laughed. "Once you're back to the Emerald City, you better work on building some sort of passable physical relationship. Watching the two of you is pathetic."

Glinda rolled her eyes as she dug into her plate. "I had a passable relationship, if you recall, before you informed him of the dangers of f-...being with a witch," The queen caught herself, never one to use such language anyway, but Locasta truly tended to push her buttons.

"For both your own goods. Now eat, eat. You'll want to tuck that rats' nest up away from your face today, dearie. We'll be working on healing magic. You'll be sweating."

The ancient one disappeared, leaving China Girl to shrug. "At least she's good at magic. Otherwise she really wouldn't have much going for her."

At this, Glinda laughed her first genuine laugh of the day, suddenly thankful for China Girl's appearance at the north castle, and looking forward to a bit of alone time with the girl.

* * *

After a series of breathing exercises and a magical warm-up, Locasta deemed that Glinda was ready for the starting point in her healing ways. "Watch first," The old witch instructed the younger, her blonde hair tucked up tightly in a bun on the top of her head, secure with a clip. She was wearing a pair of white cotton pants and matching smock top, provided by Locasta; and feeling most uncomfortable not in a dress. Aside from riding horses, she could count the number of times she'd worn pants in her life on one hand.

"You'll pull your magical focus away from your heart, unusual for you at first, I'm sure. The energy needs to go to your hands, which are the source of healing."

Glinda nodded, taking careful mental notes as she observed a light coming to the surface of Locasta's palm. "This is raw magic. It contains no power until you've manipulated it to do something specific, such as healing. Your goal for the next day or so is to be able to produce this. It will take time, patience, and probably tears, knowing you." The blonde rolled her eyes but nodded, knowing it was likely true. "There is no specific training I can give you or instructions to aid your attempts. This is going to be an exercise in you knowing your own magical pathways and summoning the potential inside of you. Once you've managed that, we'll start some readings on specific ways of manipulating the magic to heal certain ailments. I'll take you to the local infirmary to practice." Glinda swallowed and nodded, eyeing China Girl, who'd been sitting off to the side, watching the lesson unfold. "I'm going to take this little one into town to see the sights while you're working. We'll be back in a few hours with lunch." She leaned forward, pressing a warm hand onto Glinda's side. "You've been doing marvelously so far, my dear. I believe you can do this."

Taken aback by the comment, the queen mumbled her thanks under her breath. Locasta and China Girl were gone, and soon Glinda was isolated in the field she'd been practicing in for a week. With a heavy sigh, she sat down with her legs crossed, closed her eyes, and located her magical core.

Every witch had a different location of the most powerful center of magic in their bodies. For Glinda, hers happened to be wrapped around her heart. She concentrated on the beat of the organ, feeling the rhythm and nodding her head to it. Feeling the tug of magic within the beat, she summoned it down the length of her arm, through her wrist, and finally to her palm, where she shouted as pulse rippled through her, throwing her backwards. Daring to look down, she squinted at her hand, pouting when there was no light after the horrible sensation.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

China Girl laughed and clapped along with a group of street performers who were juggling, playing instruments and dancing. Locasta was standing off to the side, underneath an awning, discussing local happenings. "Locasta!" The little girl squealed, after being invited up onto the stage by one of the dancers. "Can I go?"

"Of course dear," The old witch waved, "Just be careful!"

She found herself a safe spot on the platform, spinning and kicking and moving her arms over her head with million-dollar smiles. After nearly a half an hour, the showmen were taking a break, but complimenting the China Girl's moves. Locasta offered to take her back to the castle for lunch with Glinda and she agreed, ready to tell her motherly figure about the fun morning she had.

When they arrived in the kitchens, Locasta sent a ball of energy out to the fields, and Glinda appeared moments later, haggard and out of breath. Hair was falling every-which-way out of her bun and sweat shone from her forehead. She collapsed into a chair, shaking her head.

China Girl climbed up into her lap, a concerned expression on her face. "Do you think you should lie down?"

Glinda shook her head again, a hand pressed to her forehead as she closed her eyes. "No...I'll feel better after I eat something, though."

"Good, eat up, then." Locasta set a plate of meats in front of the witch, who began gobbling them up without argument. "Lots of protein, dear...I'm guessing no success so far?"

"Not yet," She responded after a mouthful of a beef-like substance. "Getting close." She sipped at water thirstily, "So close."

"You'll surprise the Wizard and Finley when they come back, that's for sure!" China Girl chimed in, observing the lunch meal. "Have you ever had a tea party?" She questioned, tilting her head up at Glinda.

"Oh, of course! All the time when I was little. I used to force my father to attend," She laughed a bit, eyeing Locasta. "If he was in a particularly stormy mood, I'd make him wear one of my flower wreaths just to bother him."

"Hardly surprising that you did something completely annoying as a child," The old witch rolled her eyes.

"Well, we used to have tea parities all the time in China Town. It was really fun," China Girl shrugged. "Every Sunday the whole town got together for a big one. We'd serve pretend tea and cookies and listen to music and dance and wear our fanciest dresses."

Glinda swallowed a bite before replying, "That sounds like lots of fun. Perhaps we should have a tea party of our own once we're back in the Emerald City."

"Oh, can we, can we?" China Girl exclaimed, bringing her hands together and bending her knees up and down in excitement. "Please, please, Glinda!"

"Whenever you'd like, love," She responded, rubbing a finger down China Girl's cheek. "We'll make the Wizard wear a silly hat."

"And a tutu! We'll make him wear a tutu!" The little one laughed, pulling herself onto the table. "We had the most wonderful time this morning, Glinda! There's dancers and jugglers and puppeteers and music players! You must come with us when you're not practicing magic!"

"Well, if you can convince Locasta to give me some time off one day I would love to join you," She winked, finishing her meal in peace before dismissing herself to return to the training fields, asking to be brought in for dinner.

"She's becoming more disciplined," Locasta nodded to herself, then addressed China Girl. "Make sure you're always encouraging her to keep trying, little one. Magic is difficult and can be physically quite painful. If she makes remarks about not being good enough or rubbish or anything of the sort, tell her just how strong and brave she is. She needs to hear that every now and then, I think." China Girl gave a smile in agreement. Locasta softened her look and tilted her head at the child. "Do you like to listen to stories?"

"Mhm!" China Girl slid herself to the floor, "Can we go to the big library and read?"

"Of course dear. We'll spend our afternoon in far away places with mystical creatures."

* * *

"That all sounds...so dangerous." Finley crossed his arms as he leaned back in the carriage after listening to Oz explain the full details of romancing a witch and the risks that loving Glinda could carry. "I think you're in the right to want to hold off for now. You don't want to wind up hurting either of you — physically or emotionally."

"I know, I know." Oz sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I have some feelings for her that I haven't had for other girls...women," He shrugged. "But how do you even know when you love somebody? Why can't there just be some sparks that go off with a banner that says, 'she's the one!'"

"Because love is supposed to be hard." Finley rubbed his nose as he explained. "The feelings are supposed to come naturally, but it's a lot of work to maintain and support them. I mean, there's lots of different kinds of love. There's love you have for your parents, and there's love you have for friends, love for your kids or other important little people; nieces, nephews...and then there's romantic love. That's the hardest kind. It's not a relationship that comes automatically, like with family or the friends you choose to keep."

Oz gave a twitch of a smile. "Pretty wise for a monkey, you know that?" He patted Finley's back. "I feel like I've mostly just...used women up until now, you know? I needed assistants for my show, sometimes getting someone to cook for me, and usually for...you know, _other_ things."

Finley rolled his eyes. "And_ I'm _the animal here."

The Wizard ignored the comment and pondered what he really meant. "...I just want to do right by Glinda. I don't want to use her in any way, for any purpose. I want our relationship to be built on something other than royal duties or physical needs. I guess I just don't really know how to start something like that."

"You already have, Oz!" The monkey gave him a warm look. "I've been away for just over a week and already I could see something really meaningful coming together between you and her! Don't worry yourself needlessly. You're capable of forming a strong relationship. You just need to think you can."

* * *

Glinda ran through the hallways of the northern castle with her palm outstretched and a wide smile on her face. Sweat pooled at nearly every surface of her skin and she felt she could fall over and sleep if given the right moment, but she kept on until she reached the library where she shoved the door open and panted, "I did it," with her hand outstretched in Locasta's direction.

The older witch set a book down and stood up from the sofa with overwhelming feelings of pride. She settled China Girl down next to their reading material and made her way to her student, examining the concentrated energy in her hand. She closed her own over it, and let her eyelids flutter shut, nodding. "You've done it my dear."

Glinda let out a little cheer, her teeth gleaming as she couldn't contain her excitement. "China, come look, love."

The little one climbed down from the sofa and sprinted to her care taker, stretching up on her toes to see as the blonde witch lowered her hand. "It's...beautiful."

She was certainly correct as the sphere of magical energy took on a variety of iridescent shades of yellow and pink, alternating as it swirled with power waiting to be manipulated.

"Go ahead and let it go, slowly," Locasta warned, her hands hovering over Glinda's magic. "Draw it back into you...there...there. Perfect, darling. Absolutely perfect." She pressed a hand to Glinda's cheek, unable to hide the proud emotions she had for her young counterpart. "You go wash up. We'll eat something for dinner and then I've got a very small magical task for you before bed."

* * *

"No, no...She's not powerful enough!" Evanora growled over her crystal, scrapping her nails along the glass as she turned away from the images of Glinda's success. With a loud yell, she extended a hand forward and gave a zap to one of the innocent crows that she kept around the study for such reasons.

Theodora entered the room, a hand on her hip as she moved to light the dead bird in flames before twisting her hand and causing the ashes to disappear. "We could end this all whenever you want. You know I'm capable at this point."

"It's not about that," The older sister snapped, balling her long fingernails into the palm of her hand and shaking her head. "You may be capable of great magic, Theodora. But you'll never be capable of great thought. Listening you you most days, it's like your head is filled with straw."

The green one made a noise much like a hiss as she appeared in front of her sister a finger pointed down as one hand gripped the older girl's shoulder. "I made those shoes to restore your life. I can take them away..." She snapped her fingers and suddenly, the ruby-hued slippers were gone and Evanora fell to the ground, gripping the rug beneath her fingers which had turned from neatly polished to grey as she shook and felt the rest of her change to something truly hideous.

"Give them back," She croaked, reaching up and pulling on Theodora's skirts. She felt her throat closing in on itself and she choked, "Give them back!"

"What's wrong, sister?" Theodora smirked, circling the now-ancient witch like an animal eyeing its prey, "Feeling...inferior?"

Evanora took shallow breaths as she made attempts to stand, failing each time. "This...this is how it feels when you treat me like an empty-headed servant. I'm much more than your goofy little sister, now, 'Nora. I'm more powerful than you ever were or could ever hope to be again. And if you'd like to have any sense of power left in you, you'll apologize. Then, maybe I'll return the shoes to you."

"S-sorry, sister," Evanora grumbled, giving up on sitting and letting her knees draw to her chest.

"That's what I thought," Theodora grinned, opening her palm in the direction of the former advisor's feet and letting the shoes reappear on them. In an instant, Evanora's face was back to it's flaw-free state and the rest of her followed. She took a deep breath, trying to readjust to the form. "Don't forget why the shoes are red, sister." Theodora knelt on one leg, tilting her head as she glared down. "Because _I_ made them. They're _mine_. You're only borrowing them from me. When I chose to take them, you can't complain. You used to remind me of that plenty when I was younger, what were your things and what were mine. Now I'm the one with the pretty shoes, and you need to keep that in mind." She stood, crossing the room to examine Glinda in the spherical device, drawing hot water in a tub. "Let's prepare to strike. I've done my waiting. In one week's time...this will all disappear. Her happiness...her successes...will be about as bountiful as you. Without the shoes."

* * *

"Have you ever met the good fairies?" China Girl questioned Locasta as the old witch settled her in bed for the night. "My papa said they've got the greatest magic in our land. That's how he and my mother got me!"

Locasta pressed her lips together. "I've met loads of fairies in my day, dear. Most of them are actually quite dreadful little stinkers. There are a few that are worth getting to know though. I wouldn't suppose you know the name of your birth fairy?"

China Girl shrugged, her eyes downcast. "I'm afraid I don't. Traditions in China Town are to meet your birth fairy on your twentieth birthday. Then you can ask them for one wish. My mother and papa combined theirs and wished for me!"

"That is a lovely wish. I'm glad they made it."

"I was just wondering if you knew any good fairies because now that there is no China Town, I don't know if I'll ever get to meet my birth fairy. Or if I'll ever get my wish."

Locasta tucked the blankets around China Girl's little body. "And what would you wish for if you had the chance?"

"I'd wish...for the Wizard to have magic powers! But, only if he wanted them of course! Then he could be a really real wizard! Wouldn't that be great?"

The old woman nodded with a gentle smile. "I suppose if he wanted them, then indeed it would be a wonderful and selfless use of your wish. Good night, sweet child. We'll see you early in the morning."

"Good night!" China Girl yawned, stretching before curling herself up while Locasta turned out the light and made her way towards Glinda's room.

The younger witch was propped up against a pillow, reading feverishly through a book on healing magic subtypes, trying to absorb the information as quickly as possible. "I'm glad you're an avid reader," Locasta started, inviting herself to sit at the edge of the bed. "Because your little China Girl is a struggling one."

"Uh-oh," Glinda sighed, tucking a corner down on the book before setting it to the side of her bed as her fluffy, white kitten appeared from under a blanket. "What seems to be difficult for her?"

"Everything," Locasta sighed, "I tried having her read for me in the library. She knows the letter sounds but can't put them together for the life of her. Poor thing said she was the worst reader in her class at the China Town school, so she avoided reading to spare humiliation. I doubt she'll be doing much better in the Emerald City. I've sent for a tutor to come in the morning to give her some private lessons."

"Well, thank you, for that. I'll be sure we've got someone reading with her every night once we're back in the palace...Talk to her teachers at the school to see what we can do to support her." She cracked her neck to both sides, giving a little sigh.

"Speaking of support," Locasta stood, nodding her head towards the door. "I know you're comfortable and all, but I'd like for you to come with me for just a few moments."

Glinda groaned but stood up nonetheless, following Locasta to the study they were growing accustom to spending time in. On top of the large wooden desk was an equally large box, with what appeared to be no way to open it. "Now, not to alarm you, but you must be aware that I'm not going to be around much longer. This is why I've wanted to spend time training you now, because the opportunity will not be available to you later."

Glinda shook her head, feeling a prick at the corner of her eyes. "You can't know that, though! Surely you've got time left. I've still got much to learn from you!"

"Which is why I've taken the liberty of preparing this," Locasta patted the top of the box, a gentle expression on her face in attempt to comfort the worried witch. "Darling, you'll be fine, I promise. But there are lots of books and manuscripts in here of step-by-step directions for you to try new spells when you need them. There are diaries of experimental magics that I never quite managed to work, but I hope that you might some day read them and perhaps attempt to figure out what I couldn't. You're a better witch than I, dear."

"That's not true," Glinda whispered through an unexpected lump in her throat. She'd spent years wishing to escape the old woman in her life. Why was she so emotional at the thought of finally having her gone?

Locasta stretched out a hand and rubbed a thumb over Glinda's cheek. "I'm not going to argue with you...This box also has instructions on how to bind your soul with a mortal, should you and Oz come to such a decision in your relationship."

"Locasta—"

"Hush, love. Finally, there are final wishes of mine on how I'd like my things taken care of. If you'll get those documents to the proper people, I'd appreciate it. Do you think you could commit to this?" Glinda nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I'm going to have you seal this with your magic, so only you can open it. Then, I'm going to leave it within the shelf behind us."

After sealing the box closed, Glinda let out a real cry, turning to Locasta and giving her a surprising hug. "I'm sorry I've always been so terrible to you. I just never thought I could do the things you wanted me to and I was so afraid to try new things. I wish I could have appreciated all you did and have done for me much sooner."

Locasta sighed returning the embrace while running a hand through Glinda's hair, accepting the apology with a cryptic,"We never truly know what we had until it's gone, do we, love?"

Thinking of her father and dreading the day Locasta would also leave her, Glinda cried into the woman's shoulder. She didn't want to lose another important person in her life. She wasn't prepared to deal with the emotional consequences.

* * *

A muffled cry stirred Glinda from her exhausted state that night, somewhere around two in the morning. She blinked as she sat up, listening for a moment in attempt to figure out where the sound was coming from. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized the only individual in the castle who might wake up crying during the night was her seven-year-old China Girl.

Skipping slippers or a robe, the witch made a dash down the hallway and a few rooms over, to where she cautiously pushed open the door. "China?" She said quietly, not wanting to startle the girl.

The blue-hued girl was sitting up in the massive bed, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her tiny wrists, trying to comfort herself. She looked up at the sound of Glinda's voice and relief immediately washed over her. She stretched her arms up though a sob and Glinda wasted no time in picking her up.

China Girl immediately snuggled her face into the queen's neck, breathing heavily as she attempted to quiet her cries. "It's okay, love," Glinda whispered, feeling a lump in her throat as well as overwhelming memories of her father doing the same to her washed through her. Pushing the thoughts to the side, she rubbed the small girl's back. "Was it all a terrible nightmare?" She questioned, then felt China Girl nod against her. "Oh, dear. It's all over now." Moving closer to the window, Glinda rocked back and forth, drawing circles around the doll's shoulders.

"It f-felt so, so real," The younger one cried, pushing up slightly to rub at her eyes again. "I-It keeps, keeps happening! I-I see, see my mama! And...my papa! And...those...those horrible creatures!" She let out a wail and Glinda pressed her lips to the top of her head, shushing her gently.

"That must be terrible, darling. I'm so sorry. I wish I could have done something to stop it all." She closed her eyes as China Girl slowly started to calm down, burrowing further into Glinda's body for comfort. "Unfortunately, our dreams sometimes take us to our darkest places. But you're alright now, little one. I'm here and I won't leave you."

China Girl sat up, the expression on her face most pitiful. "Promise?"

Glinda stroked her fragile cheek and nodded. "Yes," She said with teary eyes, recalling how her father refused to make promises to her in fear he couldn't keep them. But as she stared hard at the pseudo-daughter trusted in her care, she realized that this was one promise she could keep. "I won't leave you, love." China Girl smiled weakly before hugging Glinda once again. "Would you like to stay with me for the night?"

"Yes please."

Glinda walked them both back to her room, pulling down the blankets on the unused half of the bed and settling the little one down on the pillows before pulling them back up and walking around to tuck herself back in. She rolled over to her side, reaching a finger and her thumb out to take one of China Girl's hands. "Tell me one of your favorite memories of your father," She started, feeling that she earned the smile that spread over China Girl's face.

"Well," She shrugged, rubbing the offered digits from Glinda as she reminisced. "China people don't grow like regular people do. Every five years, we get an enchanted bean. It lets us grow up so that we look like how old we are. Right before my fifth birthday, my papa didn't want to give me a bean." She giggled, "He said he wanted me to stay his baby doll forever."

Glinda gave a little laugh as well. "That's a great memory, sweetie. You hold onto that, okay? Because I must tell you, you'll have nightmares for probably quite some time." Her eyes fell, "I know I did. Sometimes, I still do. All I can do when I wake up is think of all the good times I had with the ones I loved, even if that time was cut way too short."

China Girl nodded and yawned, tucking her face further into the pillow. "If you ever have a nightmare, you can wake me up too, okay?"

The blonde swallowed the fourth lump in her throat of the night as she gave a mumbled, "Okay," before leaning over to give the seven-year-old another kiss goodnight. "I'll be right here if you need me, love."

* * *

Glinda shivered as she looked at an infected wound in the infirmary of a boarding school in the Gillikin country. "Are you sure it should all be done with magic? I think it should be washed out or something first."

Locasta patted her shoulder in reassurance. "My dear, you're not a professional healer, simply a witch with healing magic. This is a different procedure than what a healer would do. Go on then, try to manipulate the magic."

Calling her energy to her left palm, Glinda used her wand to change the shape and color of the magic into something usable.

"That's it...perfect control, absolutely wonderful. Now, force that energy on top of the injury, carefully...Give it a flourish...and...success!" The formerly oozing, bleeding pustule alongside the ankle of a young man was gone in an instant, replaced by clean, healthy flesh. "My dear, you're a natural." She turned her attention to the boy, swatting at his exposed skin. "Young man, you're off. Thank you for being her first victim."

Locasta turned to give Glinda an 'I-told-you-so' expression. "The things you can accomplish when you only believe are astounding, are they not?" The younger witch shrugged and Locasta waved her off. "Dear, you aught to be proud of yourself. Anyway, we'll do two more types of injuries and then I think you've earned an afternoon off."

"Really?" Glinda perked up, her eyes twinkling. She hadn't had more than meals or sleeping breaks in over a week.

"Mhm. I think you aught to spend some time with China Girl in town. See if you couldn't get her fitted for some new dresses. There's an old Munchkin dress shop behind the bakery. They'd be more than happy to assist you both, I'm sure."

The late morning came and China Girl bounced on her toes at the notion of spending an afternoon on the town with Glinda. "This is too perfect," She gleamed, skipping along a beat in front of the witch as they walked from the castle down a winding hill that lead to the center of Gillikin life. "Do you think we can explore the Emerald City when you return?"

"Yes, we'll have to. I don't know how much as changed since I've been away for so long. I'm excited to see what's been built up."

The two arrived at the Munchkin dress shop, where the owner greeted them both with overwhelming kindness. "And the little one would like a dress, yes?"

Glinda gave a nod as China Girl marveled at the selection of fabrics and machines that could sew them. "Several, if you could. We'll be in town for a few more weeks, so there's really no rush—"

"Nonsense, you'll be my first priority!" The woman cheered, offering to take China Girl's measurements. "So petite! It will be a joy to design for you, miss. Would you care to pick out some fabric?"

"Yes please!" The doll grinned, sliding down from the pedestal to examine her choices. "Glinda, what do you think, can I get white to match you?"

The witch glanced down at her ensemble for the afternoon — far dressier of an outfit than Locasta allowed her to wear while practicing magic. "If you think that's what you'd like, my dear, then feel free."

After choosing several shades of white, pink and blue, the two made their way back to the center of town, where China Girl tugged one of Glinda's fingers towards a sweet shop, questioning what they were and asking her to describe them.

"Darling, I don't know how to describe tastes to someone who's never tasted," Glinda said with a sad laugh, picking the child up and placing her on her shoulder. "My father wasn't one to allow me much for sweets anyway."

"My papa used to pretend-cook pie with me," China Girl sighed. "He was a great fake cook."

Glinda squeezed her tiny leg. "I imagine he was."

* * *

Evanora rolled her eyes, muttering to herself as she observed the interaction in her crystal. "Honestly, as if the king left you in want for anything. That bastard always gave you the best and left the scraps for the rest of us, you wretched little thing."

She clicked the heels of the ruby red shoes together, annoyed at their color. Theodora had done it just to spite her — a bright, bold red, clashing against all that she owned and would wear. "Ugly mug with dreadful taste...these little witches...nothing but trouble the whole lot of them."

One of her faithful baboons appeared in the study she'd claimed as her own in the abandoned castle she and Theodora had taken over nearly two weeks prior. "Do you think you could manage to fetch me the potions kit in the storage closet on the third floor?" She questioned of the creature, which gave a firm nod. She rubbed affectionately along its neck before allowing it to leave once more. "The only ones I can truly count on anymore," She sighed, tossing herself most unlady-like into a stack of pillows on the sofa. "This world has such little to offer me anymore. Should have just let Glinda do me off."

"Certainly you don't mean it," Theodora questioned as she stepped into the room, earning an eye-roll from the older witch.

"Oh sister, what could you possibly want of me now? Can't I be alone for an hour or two?"

The green one shifted her weight on her feet, bringing her hands together. Without her hat and in much less-jaunting clothing, she bore almost a similar resemblance to the sister Evanora had taken away. "I'm growing tired, sister. We must find some way to act, something to destroy — some people to cause misery to. I cannot sit here day in and out, waiting for a plot to unfold."

"You sat aimlessly for years, content to wait for my command. Now you get yourself a touch of control on your powers and suddenly you want to take over the land?"

"You're the one who said I was wicked! Let's make something of it!"

Evanora stood, pacing in the rotten red slippers that clicked obnoxiously along the stone floor. She strode behind a tall desk, facing a shelf, tucking several heavy texts in her arms. Theodora sat on a tan sofa, her hands together, fidgeting with excitement for whatever evil proclamation her sister might declare.

A heavy thump rattled the sofa, earning a jump from the emerald-hued witch, who stared at the stack of old manuscripts Evanora tossed down.

"How about a book, sister. Crack it open. Read it. Gain an ounce of _something_ from it. I haven't energy for your impatience nor brain cells to waste on your idiocy."

With a flourish of her fingers, she strode out of the room, her heels clicking the whole way.

Theodora narrowed her eyes at the sight, her oddly shaped eyebrows nearly coming together.

Maybe Glinda wasn't the witch she should have herself so worked up about. Perhaps there was another, closer to home, who may be more of the source of her anguish.

* * *

Oz flopped against the mattress of his guest room in the Munchkin traveler's inn he'd found himself housed in while he was in the High City. Finley joined him with his arms crossed and a cheeky grin. "Bet you wish Glinda was here to rub your shoulders, huh? Things got pretty tense in there."

The Wizard gave a smirk back and squished Finley's face with his palm, causing the monkey to sneeze and furrow playfully. "I think she'd have been proud of the way I handled things. Those old town elders aught to be put out to pasture. It's time for a generation of people who are ready for change. I'm not afraid to stand up for what's right. Even if it means going against tradition."

After a heated argument, Oz had eventually convinced the elders of the High City of Munchkinland that they did not have the authority to order years worth of trends in tax increases on the farming folk in their community nor could they force half-breed Munchkins in their land into servitude.

"Quarter and Half-Munchkins have always been part of the lowest class in Oz. For years they've been forced to work in pure-breed Munchkin homes as pretty much slaves. What you're about to do is really revolutionary. There's bound to be backlash, but I think it'll be worth it. The Wizard is supposed to see to it that all people are happy and abundant. Not just those in the upper class." Finley clapped a hand on Oz's shoulder. "Congratulations, Oz. You've done what no one else has."

Oz felt the tips of his ears blush at the praise. "Thanks, Finley. I do wish Glinda were here though." He folded both his hands under his head, closing his eyes. "I enjoy her company. And watching her do real magic. It's incredible, the things she can do."

"The two of you will be really great together, once everything's all straightened out," The monkey yawned, moving to the windowsill where he'd made himself his own version of a bed out of a cushion and blankets. "And to think, you're hardly courting and you've already got a kid! You'll be a successful couple in no time at all."

His ears still burning, Oz blew out the candle that was on the nightstand next to his bed before kicking off his shoes and undoing all the buttons involved in his outfit and attempting to find a comfortable spot to curl up in for the night. He looked forward to the following evening when he could return to Glinda and China Girl, with Finley at his side, pleased to soon be reunited with his family in Oz.


	6. Chapter 6

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Six  
**_Give me the sort of courage that makes one forget he is afraid._

Glinda wiped her brow as she stood back from a patient in the Gillikin healing center, having just successfully performed a spell similar to open-heart surgery on a three-day-old born with a severe defect. Locasta was beaming behind her as the healers in the room worked over the infant, finding that indeed, Glinda had saved the little girl's life.

"I feel...full," The young witch said as Locasta led her to greet the waiting parents, a young couple who'd been elated upon news that their firstborn would live with assistance from Oz's queen herself. "It's like my life has more meaning now that I can use it to save others."

After many hugs and tearful thank you's from the child's parents, Glinda excused herself through a back door, standing in the alleyway of the medical center, a hand over her heart. She bit her bottom lip, fully convinced that had she only taken magic more seriously as a child, she could have learned the power of healing sooner.

She could have saved her father.

Making her way up the street, Glinda blinked back tears of her own selfish past, ready to find some sort of magic — a spell, a potion, anything that could lead her back to the tragic day in the Emerald City where she went from princess to prisoner.

"You must know," A voice from behind her startled Glinda, earning her watery eyes. Locasta stepped closer, shaking her head. "There's no amount of healing power that can cause the dead to rise good as new."

Glinda balled her hands into fists at her side in frustration. "But what if we could stop them from dying in the first place?"

The old witch pressed her lips together before taking Glinda's upper arm and transporting them to the kitchens of the palace. She guided a trembling Glinda to a seat near the counter top, using her magic to call forth ingredients she needed to prepare something for the younger witch to eat. "Darling," She sighed. "Using your magic to travel through time and space is possible. Unfortunately, it is probably the most unstable and uncontrollable magic there is." The blonde swallowed hard at a lump in her throat, willing it away but finding it impossible as she continued to let her mind wander the subject. "When it is someone's time to die...it simply is. Sometimes, healing won't work. If it is truly the time for someone to go, they need to go."

She passed a plate of fresh fruit to Glinda, who ate it most un-regally with her fingertips rather than summoning a utensil. Not looking up, she refused to make eye-contact as she asked with a horse voice, "Do you think I could have saved him?"

Locasta took a seat on the stool next to Glinda, taking a piece of pineapple out of her bowl and chewing it before stating, "No. You couldn't have, unfortunately, love. What's the first key to any healing, or ability to control magic?"

"Emotional control," Glinda sighed, placing a hand on the back of her neck and tapping the thumb of her other one against the plate.

"Do you think you could have performed, even if you had the skill set?"

"No," She swallowed, eating a strawberry with a sigh. "Probably not."

"Okay, then." Locasta nodded. "It's best you keep those thoughts far from your mind, love. There's no need to torture yourself with what wouldn't have been. Trust me, it's not worth it."

Glinda looked to her right with sparkling eyes, shining with a desire to hear Locasta's story. "What happened? Please, tell me about your life?"

The old witch tilted her head, shaking it. "Why does it matter?"

"Our experiences make us who we are," Glinda said quietly, recalling the words that Oz had spoken about his own trials in the past. "Please share your experiences with me. I...want to know who you are."

Locasta popped another piece of fruit into her mouth before giving a shrug at the idea of revealing centuries worth of woes and triumphs to her young protege. "I think...that...You'll be better off not knowing all the details of my life. But," She stood, taking Glinda's hand. "I know a little girl who would love to have a greater part of yours."

Glinda took her turn to shrug a shoulder, taking her hand away. "China Girl and I have plenty of time to spend together. But...according to what you said the other night, I might not have a lot of time left with you. I don't want to regret anything, Locasta...please, let's just...talk."

After a long pause, Locasta gave a single nod. "Upstairs we go."

* * *

Glinda settled herself sideways into a very cozy, oversized chair, her feet dangling over the edge as her back was to an armrest. Locasta sat up straight in an ottoman next to Glinda, serving them both tea as she began to reflect on six hundred years of personal history.

"During the days of my birth, Oz was at a rare time of peace for that portion of our land's history. My mother, Gayelette, was a northern princess, and my father, Quelala, a common man. Neither of them had personal magical powers, though they later discovered tools that would assist them. Notably, a golden cap that could summon winged beasts much like those of Evanora's." She cleared her throat, rubbing her thumb over the knuckle of her index finger as she thought. "Their marriage was forbidden by Gayelette's mother, but she ran off with Quelala anyway. She fell pregnant with myself after about two months of marriage. It was too much, too soon for her. Shortly after my birth, she took a terrible illness and passed away."

Glinda's eyes sparkled with the first of what she would find to be many common threads between them. "You were raised by your father as well, then?"

Locasta nodded. "Mostly his parents. He moved back home to his family cottage, where we stayed until I was about ten years old. That's when I started showing signs of magic. Back in that time, magic within a female was greatly misunderstood. Most witches were considered wicked and a threat to attempt to rue the land they lived in. Quelala sent me to the Emerald City. There, I was placed through a series of tests and painful measures to check my levels of magic. They assumed I was bound for wickedness."

_Six-year-old Locasta, with her bright blue eyes shining and white-blonde hair that'd never been cut rippling half-way down her back begged of her father for an answer. "But why can't you come with me?"_

_Quelala didn't answer his daughter as he tucked a scarf over her head, preparing her for the cold weather outside where officials from the White City were waiting to take her, likely permanently. If his wife could only have seen him now — he was surely the greatest coward in all the land. _

"_Father, please," Locasta whispered, her small hands trembling as he placed a shoulder-bag over her head and a kiss to her cheek before lifting her up and out the door, despite the screams that she'd started emitting. _

_They turned into shrieks as men dressed in all white placed her into the back of a carriage, the kind used to transport animals. The door to the back was shut, and all the young witch could do was cry as she shook at the bars on the sides, staring at her father in heartbreak._

_It was almost two days before they'd arrived at the White City at their impossibly slow speed. Locasta had been used to going several days without eating. After a harsh winter the year before, the land that her family farmed had not recovered and their profits were so low that they could hardly afford to care for themselves. However, those who had all but kidnapped her refused to let her out, so she'd been forced to relieve herself in the corner of the small cage, probing intense embarrassment. _

_As the walls of the White City came into view, Locasta could only imagine what horrors she'd face on the inside. A small room, perhaps without any light._

_They were small fears compared to what she'd really experience._

"_Ah, here's the new little witch," A shrill voice rang from the side of the cart as it pulled up behind the palace from a back entrance to the city. _

"_Greetings, little one," A lanky, dark-haired woman spoke to Locasta through the bars of her window. "My name is Jinjur. I'll be...taking care of you while you're here."_

_For a moment, Locasta thought better of what it meant to be taken care of — a hot bath, perhaps, a warm meal? _

"_Before you step out of the carriage, I'll need you to change into this," She slid a dark green frock through to the six-year-old, who cringed at the feeling of the material. It was scratchier than the burlap sacks she used to carry vegetables into the market with._

_Swallowing hard, the little blonde undid the scarf from her head and tugged off the winter dress she'd been wearing, replacing it with the hideous one from the government worker. "Good, good. I'm about to open the lock. You'll be shackled and led inside."_

"_Sh-shackled?" Locasta stuttered, shaking her head. "I won't run. I promise! Please, don't chain me up!"_

_Jinjur took two steps forward, her hands behind her back. "As you'll soon discover, my dear...things around here don't work with a pretty please and thank you. You will do what you are told to do, when you are told to do it. You will not argue and you will not hesitate. Is this understood?"_

_Locasta gripped the bars of her window, screeching her protests before Jinjur gave an order to the guards, "Open the door!"_

_She stepped into the filthy carriage with a twitch of her nose, then reached into the pocket of her military-style jacket, placing a thick, metal shackle around Locasta's neck, causing her to panic and attempt to fight. "Sh, sh, dear. This doesn't need to be painful." Two more smaller bands closed on either of the little girl's wrists, joined at points in the collar. A chain, like a leash, was on the back, and Jinjur gave a firm tug on it to show her authority and dominance over the child. Locasta fell to her knees as she cried long and loud, praying for anyone to hear her. "Up," She commanded. Locasta refused to move until she gaged on the feeling of the metal digging into her windpipe. Giving in, she rose and let Jinjur lead her out of the carriage and into the blinding White City for the briefest of moments before a door to the palace opened and she was whisked away into a dark cellar. _

_Jinjur tugged at the chain-leash until Locasta willingly stepped foot into a brightly-lit room. Tables and counters lined the sides, with terrifying looking metal devices everywhere. A set of long chains dangling from the ceiling and a second attached to the floor caught the blonde's eye, and she knew in a second where she'd be sent next._

"_Please, no...please, I don't even really think I'm magic!"_

_The woman in charge gave a tut before nodding to guards on either side of Locasta, who took one arm each and lifted her to the center of the room, clipping her wrists into the chains on the ceiling and ankles to those on the floor. Locasta tried to slink down to her knees, but the height of the ones lifting her arms made such movement impossible. She knew screaming was worthless after two days of being ignored, so as Jinjur sauntered closer, she attempted reason. "The good people of Oz are forbidden to kill!" She shrieked at the woman. "You can't kill me!"_

_Jinjur's face turned to an expression of mock-sympathy. "Darling, I wouldn't kill you! No, no...you're sorely mistaken about your purpose here. But what I must do may be a touch...painful, so brace yourself." She lifted a sharp, needle-like knife from a clean metal cabinet. "We need to see just how much magic you've got in you. See how wicked you might become."_

_Locasta shrieked as the horrid lady drew closer, trying to kick her legs and shake the shackles against the ceiling to fall down and allow her freedom. But no action could be taken as the thin point was slowly inserted to a spot on the back of her neck, and her entire body grew limp. She couldn't even speak, just breathe as Jinjur whirled around with a smirk. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it? See, I've numbed you up so the rest won't be nearly as painful. The effect is temporary, you'll be mobile in just a few hours. I need you still as I draw some blood from the column in your back." With a flourish, she gathered a terrifying syringe from a cart, untying the strings that held Locasta's frock closed in the back before injecting the long needle between two discs, collecting fluid for experimental purposes. _

"_And we'll take a few vials of blood, and that's all for now! Not too bad now is it, darling?" After the collections were taken, Locasta wanted nothing more then to cry. "All set. Now, I'll take you to the chambers you'll be staying in for awhile. You won't be able to escape, so don't try, you'll only wind up hurting yourself."_

_She undid all of the chains binding Locasta, then tugged the limp girl into a cradle hold, earning her bright blue eyes, still full of strength despite the unjust treatment. Jinjur walked her down a hallway and through a maze of prison cells and closed-off rooms before arriving at a chamber that looked fitted for a child. "Here's where you'll stay for now." A relatively comfortable cot lay lumpy in the middle of a floor, with nothing else but a candle, a commode, and a basket of stale bread — but it was more then the little girl had been expecting. Jinjur placed her in the middle of the bed, making her into a comfortable position before pulling a thin sheet over her still body and stroking the blonde locks from her face. "Tomorrow you'll have a decontamination shower before we run some tests. Try to sleep, you'll have an exhausting day ahead of you." She pressed a very uncomfortable kiss to the top of Locasta's forehead before disappearing out the door and locking it securely, leaving the little witch to scream in her head, since her throat could produce no sounds._

_The pattern of "tests" continued for a few days, then spiraled somewhere into experiments. During her third week at the White City palace, Locasta had been prodded and poked in nearly every part of her body, now riddled with little scars. _

_After that, she was alone. She couldn't keep track of time in minutes or hours, but given the amount of meals she'd had, typically two a day, she'd calculated she hadn't been let out of her small room in nearly a month._

_She'd almost been worn with the madness solitude could garner, but having found a way to turn chains into a carving tool, she'd created intricate pictures all along the walls in her cell — documenting her life in a series of chips and scratches in concrete. _

_On what she figured was her thirty-seventh day of isolation, Locasta's door opened wider then necessary for a meal to be dropped off. Jinjur entered with a wide, semi-sweet smile, kneeling in front of the now frail-thin witch. "It's been some time since I've seen you, dearie. Thought perhaps you'd like to get out of this dreary prison. Though it looks like you've made it home," She nodded to the walls, earning a flush of embarrassment from the filthy girl. "Come on, I'll get you a decontamination shower all set up. A fresh pair of clothes, perhaps?"_

_Locasta nodded, her sunken-in eyes blinking rapidly to keep tears of relief at human contact at bay. Despite knowing Jinjur was likely going to probe her body with all sorts of knives and needles, there was something to be said about not being alone._

_Jinjur took Locasta's hand, leading her down the long series of hallways until the blonde was so exhorted from the act of walking that her knees buckled from under her. "Oh, dear." The woman in charge turned and lifted Locasta into a cradle hold, carrying her to the bathing area._

_A number of showers stood open, offering no privacy. No longer ashamed, after having been prodded naked a month earlier in front of all sorts of folks who claimed to be healers, who might heal the magic right out of her, Locasta was not ashamed as Jinjur helped her out of her dingy dress and into the open stall. The water that came out of the faucet was a milky-white and smelled strongly of something foul. Jinjur had previously claimed it was a decontaminating substance, but Locasta was far wiser then to believe such lies. _

_Regardless, the hot water against her grimy skin felt wonderful, and as Jinjur pulled her out of the spray to suds her with a sponge, Locasta closed her eyes and imagined she was home on her family's farm, outside by the well, in the large, silver tub, with her grandmother helping her weekly bath along. Finally clean, the head healer tucked a towel over Locasta, nudging her down the hall, her knobby knees practically knocking together as she was taken to a dressing room. Her hair was dried under a heat lamp and Jinjur took precious time combing and styling the blonde waves into a half-ponytail, a bright white bow tied to hold the hair up. _

_A second healer tugged a pair of bloomer-style undergarments up Locasta's thin body, earning a quizzical look from the little girl. So far since arriving, her hair had been a knotted mess and all the clothes she'd been allowed were simple, itchy frock-style garments. Nothing like this. A crisp, white dress was pulled over her, buttoned together in the back before a pair of socks and pearly shoes adorned her feet. _

"_Now," Jinjur started, moving to kneel in front of Locasta, holding both the girl's hands. "We're going to head upstairs to greet King Albion and his council. They've asked to see one of our witches for an update on how our progress is coming along down here. You're to remain quiet and stand perfectly still at my side. You won't be cuffed or chained, because I think I can trust you. Don't tempt me, though, darling. If you can behave yourself for this time, you'll get to spend the next few weeks living with me and being treated like a princess. Doesn't that sound lovely?"_

_Locasta swallowed, weighing the risks and benefits of doing as she was told. Finally, she gave a weak smile and a single nod. "Good, good," Jinjur was practically giddy as she kissed each of Locasta's hollow cheeks. "Take my hand, darling. We're on our way up."_

_The brightness of the palace was a bit much for Locasta. She'd been trapped in near-darkness for so long that the sight of a window was blinding for her. She covered her eyes with the hand not holding onto Jinjur's, and the woman cringed, knowing such a presentation would not look good. "Come here," She sighed, reaching both arms down and lifting the little girl into her side, where she could tuck her face into Jinjur's neck to hide from the blinding lights. _

_They arrived in the throne room and a council of some fifty men and women were gathered around the King's throne. Jinjur placed Locasta down and whispered into her ear. "Open your eyes, darling. It'll be over before you know it."_

_Locasta squinted, trying to keep her baby blue's open as the head healer rambled on about rehabilitating little witches and older ones, who were working hard at learning to not use their magic as they continued to run medical experiments at completely removing it from them. She brought Locasta in front of her, reciting a prepared speech about how the small one was progressing positively and was completely happy in the environment they'd created for her. _

_Nearly an hour later, the two were back in the dungeons, and Jinjur kissed Locasta once more. "You were wonderful, my dear. Now, as promised, you'll get to live with me for the next few weeks. How about a great supper, yeah?"_

_Nodding, the small blonde followed Jinjur down a hallway, where they passed a group of prison cells containing mostly older women, who sneered and hollered as Locasta passed them. "Are those wicked witches?" She questioned of Jinjur when they were far enough away._

"_Oh, yes. Very wicked, indeed. We've kept you away from them because we don't want them to influence the wickedness that is manifesting just below the surface of your magical abilities." She lifted Locasta into a tall chair at the dining table in her private chambers. _

_Locasta swallowed, fighting tears as she questioned, "So you're going to take my magic away, right? Then I won't become wicked?"_

"_We hope so, yes, yes, dear," Jinjur said with a very convincing expression. "Once we've taken the magic out of you, we shouldn't have to worry about you becoming wicked."_

"_Then...will I get to go back to my grandparents? And my father?"_

_Jinjur passed the girl a plate of food, warning her not to eat it too quickly. "We can't be certain that you'll return there. I think it would be safer if you stayed here for quite some time, even once we can get the magic out of you."_

_Locasta savored the food on her plate, eating slowly to avoid upsetting her stomach. When she'd finished, she was completely exhausted and Jinjur took note, taking the girl into her bedroom, dressing her in a white nightgown and tucking her into bed. "I'll be joining you later, dear. Sleep tight!"_

_So continued the unusual treatment of the little witch by the very woman who'd imprisoned her. She'd been given relative freedom of wandering the dungeon with permission, though she preferred to stay either with Jinjur or in her chambers. The dark-haired one frequently made comments to Locasta about "having always wanted a daughter," or "it's as if you're a child that is my very own." Such remarks made the young witch uncomfortable, but she knew that they were the only reason she wasn't being tortured._

_Four months passed in such a way that Locasta had nearly all but forgotten she was a prisoner in the palace. She'd come to love Jinjur in a strange way, relying on the woman for comfort and kindness, which she readily gave. With presentable clothing, a regular bath, and meals thrice daily, Locasta was hardly in danger. Once a day, however, Jinjur would take her to the same room she'd been in the first day of her captivity, set her up on a table, and inject her arm with an amber-colored liquid, claiming it was a treatment to shrink her magical abilities until they were gone._

_One night, as Jinjur joined Locasta in bed, she was surprised to find the little witch still awake. "Darling, what is it?"_

"_When the magic is gone from me, will we get to move into a different part of the palace?" _

_Jinjur tugged the small girl closer into a half-hug. "I don't know about that, but maybe once you're completely rehabilitated, we can venture out more often and into the White City."_

_The following day, Locasta felt brave enough to wander the dungeon a bit on her own, including traveling through the prisoner area. She refused to look any of the witches in the eye or come close to them, but was given little choice when a hand reached out and tugged her close to a cell. She gasped and widened her eyes, shaking as the older witch gave her a smirk. "I won't hurt you. I just want to talk to you, sweetie."_

_Locasta tried to pull the fingers from her wrist, yelling for Jinjur to come and rescue her. "Sweetie, please. My name is Mombi. I've been in this cell for years. You've been given an extraordinary gift of freedom for whatever reason. You aught to use it! Get us out of here, or at the very least, get yourself out of here! You can escape, find your family — inform all of Oz what is truly happening down here!"_

"_No, you're wicked!" Locasta cried, finally pulling away about to run._

"_We're not wicked." A second voice from the cell declared, a dark-skinned woman who looked significantly younger than the first stepped next to Mombi. "I'm Ria, and I was taken by the healers when I wasn't much older then you. I've been tortured for many years here, as they claim to be attempting to take the magic from us. I don't know what they are really doing, but whatever it is, they are the truly wicked ones."_

Glinda was visibly upset at the start of the story Locasta was sharing with her. She'd had no idea such terrible events had happened in the palace she called home. "The King and his council knew that all this was going on?"

"It was Jinjur's idea, originally. I think she'd been wronged by the witch Mombi in the past. They'd grown up as childhood friends, but there was a rift between them. I didn't learn until later what it was, but it was Jinjur that thought the land should be purified from all witches, wicked or not. King Albion and the Great White City Council bought into it, and that's how the horrors began."

The younger of the two witches shook her head in disbelief. "I truly cannot believe that such deeds had been committed in your lifetime."

Shrugging, the older gave a warning before telling the rest of her story. "The cruelty of man can never be understood. These events happened...therefore, it can happen again. As queen, you'll have to be on constant watch for those who might try to commit such indecent acts against others." Locasta rubbed the top of her head, sighing. "After being treated in so many different ways, I was confused. And when I questioned Jinjur of her true intentions with me, I was suddenly taken from my high status as her favorite witch, and dropped into the same cells as the rest of the witches. I was once again starved, taken several times a week to be stabbed and experimented on...it was awful."

_Locasta cried loudly, rocking back and fourth in attempt to comfort herself after a particularly gruesome day in one of the healer's labs. They'd sent her back bloodied and naked, and though she was just six, the little witch was starting to wish that their methods would simply kill her to get it all over with._

_Mombi was returned to their shared cell a few hours later, and at the sight of the little one, her heart melted. She took off her outer dress, tugging it over Locasta's head before lifting her into a long hug, whispering comfort into her ears. "You should have run like I told you, dearest. You could have saved yourself and gotten us all help."_

"_I'm sorry," Locasta cried, sniffing as she twitched in her tantrum. "Please, don't be mad at me!"_

"_Of course not, little dear." Mombi tucked Locasta's greasy hair away. "I've heard the guards say they don't think you're going to be here much longer. You'll probably be sent North, to the Gillikin land. You'll be locked up, but not treated as cruelly. There is a library, in town. You'll have access to books. Find those on magic and read them up. Teach yourself to read, find a friend — whatever you must do. You have to learn magic, dear. Then, someday, you can get all the witches out of this mess."_

"I became such an emotional catastrophe that eventually, they decided I wasn't worth their time anymore. I was sent North, to an asylum for girls with magical properties. Considered highly dangerous, I was isolated for the most part."

Glinda's mouth fell open at this — the proposition of all young witches to be tortured and sent away, as if a danger to the land of Oz at large. "That's completely immoral! To treat children in such a way."

"Indeed," Locasta shook her head. "For nine years I lived in the asylum. There were fourteen of us. Later we discovered that there were only three actual witches — the rest of them were all simply half-breeds. Most of them wound up as magical healers later on. But, little did the officials of the Gillikin land know, that we weren't simply laying about all day turning to mush. As Mombi said we would, we were afforded access to the town library once a month. Unmonitored, we began to take books on magic and hide them until we were unsupervised at nighttime. The older three witches taught me to read and we would stay up late into the morning, learning and practicing until we finally began to get a sense of our powers. We were quite impressive for untrained witches...Anyway, by the time I was fifteen, I knew I was powerful enough to overcome any of the workers of the asylum or the soldiers who'd dare to try and stop me from leaving the Gillikin Country. With the help of those I'd come to consider sisters, we broke out, running near the edge of the impassable desert, deep into Winkie Country. It was there that I nearly died, and there where I met the love of my life and first husband...Faelan."

_Fifteen-year-old Locasta made herself a bed out of brown weeds from an overgrown area near the northern-most boarder of Winkie Country. Her small pack of supplies from the Gillikin asylum was not holding up against the trek she'd made with the other three witches, who'd all elected to find a town to stay in. Willing to risk no such luck, Locasta alone had traveled for nearly sixteen days. She was hungry, cold, and completely desperate for something to come along and change her fate. The Ugabu land that she hoped she'd find safety in was at lest four more days walk at her pace, and as her stomach lurched in emptiness, she was wondering if she'd really make it. If only she had learned to create sustainable food from the books she'd read..._

_Covering herself with as many dead leaves as possible, she curled protectively around her pack of limited resources, willing herself to stop shivering and sleep for at least a few hours. As the night grew on, the noises of the forest were too much to afford her any rest. Giving up, she sat, summoning as much energy as she could to produce a small fire in a hole she'd dug earlier, expecting the need for heat. Breathing in a sigh of relief, she tried humming to herself to keep the stinging feeling of complete loneliness away. _

_It was some hours later, as her fire was reducing itself to a tender smolder, a loud snapping noise behind her startled her so grand, she let out a crack of magical release, shouting, "I'm a wicked witch if you should dare cross me!"_

_She was shaking, completely caught off-guard at the sight of another living being. _

"_Easy, easy," A voice said gently. Out of the woods, a figure appeared, tall and lean, covered in black with a hood pulled just above dazzling green eyes, reflecting in the dim light of the fire. "I'm not here to attack you. My father saw the smoke rising from our home up in the mountain. He asked me to see if a traveler needed assistance." The young man took another step forward, his hands up as he continued to explain himself. "You hardly look like a wicked witch to me," He stated with a chuckle._

_Locasta crossed her arms, breathing quickly as she tried to stay calm. "Perhaps not wicked, but I am a witch. And should you attempt to harm me, I'll see to it that you're magicked away to the impassable desert!"_

"_Okay, okay...cool it, come on now, let's just talk, alright?" He invited himself to sit on her stack of leaves, introducing himself. "I'm Faelan. My father and mother live about four miles up the mountain. We rarely see people out here, but when we do, they're usually lost. We always do our best to help them find where they need to go. Is there a direction I can point you in?"_

_The blonde shook her head, twigs falling from her parched locks as she did so, her blue eyes narrowing into slits. "I just told you I'm a witch and you want to help me?"_

_Faelan shrugged, patting the spot next to him, which the witch refused to sit in. "Despite what the Ozian government wants everyone to think, I quite know better than to assume all witches are wicked with some covert agenda to overthrow the king and enslave all the people." He smirked, lowering his hood, revealing a mop of red hair. "My mother's a witch. One of the greatest in Winkie Country. We've had quite a few young witches stay with us for different periods of time since I've been alive. She enjoys training them and teaching them what she knows. That's why we live up here, in the mountains. My family doesn't want to be torn apart by laws of injustice for a certain kind of people."_

_Locasta swallowed hard at the boy's words, marveling at his 'wise-beyond-years' finesse and acceptance of her difference. "Your...mother...a witch?" She could hardly fathom meeting an experienced witch. She felt useless and inferior just thinking of it. "Surely she'd want nothing to do with me?"_

_The redhead shrugged again. "I think not. She's a wonderful lady, I think...though I might be biased," He shot Locasta a thousand-watt smile, earning a flush across her dirty cheeks. "In the very least, she'd love to put you up for a few nights with some hot meals and a bathtub." He pulled a leaf out of Locasta's tussled mane, making her face redden even further. "It'd be better than sleeping on a pile of dried weeds, anyhow. Come on, just for the night?"_

_Locasta paced, suddenly feeling distrustful. "How do I know you're not some rat for the government of Oz, ready to bring me into the dungeons of the White City?"_

_Faelan stood up, folding his palms against one another, closed his eyes and muttered under his breath before producing a spark of light that bounced near his head. "Because I too, have magic. I may not ever have the potential to become a great wizard, but I am enough that the officials would lock me away if they found me. Come. My mother will care for you personally, I know it."_

_Despite her better judgement, the teenager blinked rapidly, tilting her head to put out the fire and extending a hand to her personal escort. Feeling a lump in her throat, as no one had showed her kindness in years, she finally introduced herself to the young, magical man. "My name is Locasta. Thank you for treating me as a friend."_

"You weren't suspicious of this boy?" Glinda questioned, sinking lower into the chair as she found herself already becoming emotionally entangled in Locasta's past.

"Of course I was! A good looking young man showing up at my exact hour of need with magical abilities and a witch for a mother? Too good to be true, I thought. But, for one of the few times in my life...I was proven wrong."

"_Faelan?" A soft, feminine voice called as the two teens made their way into a small, three-roomed cottage, the redhead brushing off Locasta's clothing and removing his shoes before fully entering the living quarters which were attached to a tiny kitchen area._

"_Ma, it's me...and a guest." He responded as a fair-skinned woman made an appearance in the doorway of the living and kitchen area, bursting into a smile at the sight of Locasta. "This is Locasta—"_

"_A good witch if I've ever seen one," The knowing woman clapped her hands together and rushed to pull the blonde into an unexpected hug. "Oh, darling, you look famished and exhausted! Sit, sit, dear, Locasta?" The younger witch nodded, completely shell-shocked at the sudden abundance of kindness. "I'm Eavana. I've been hoping for a bright young lady to show up soon! I haven't trained a witch in ages — oh this will be so exciting! Don't tell me you've run away from home, though, dear? Your mother and father aren't worried sick, are they? Or, no — they kicked you out when they discovered—"_

"_No, no..." Locasta corrected, not wanting to interrupt, but not ready to let the woman get carried away in hysterics over her fantasies. She twisted her filthy skirt around her thumb as she sat up straight on a clearly homemade kitchen stool. "No, um...My mother passed away when I was born, and my father surrendered me when I was ten to the White City officials, who decided I was wicked. They locked me up in the Gillikin Asylum for Girls. I escaped after five years over two weeks ago. I've been trying to get to the Ugabu Country. I heard there are refuge camps for magical folk there."_

_Eavana gave her a sad grin as she fussed in the kitchen, preparing a small meal for the girl. "There are, true. From what I hear, there's not many resources to go around and the camp itself has turned into a hierarchy of power. Mostly families there, dear. Not sure that's a place for a lone young girl. While my husband is obviously not joining us for now, I welcome you into this home for as long as you can stand to stay. I can work with you on all kinds of magic, so long as you're willing to learn it." She placed a loaf of bread on the table, giving permission to dig in, which Locasta did ravenously. _

"_I'd love to learn," She said after a large bite, "But I can't simply stay here and mooch from your family—"_

_The red-haired mother tossed a hand out, disagreeing. "It'd be our pleasure to have you, Locasta. Eat up. Fae? Prepare the spare cot in your room, please."_

_Eager to please his mother, Faelan left for his bedroom as Locasta made haste to finish her meal. "Would you mind if I took a look at your magical potential?" _

_Knowing this was a painful process from the way those in the White City had performed it on her, Locasta braced herself after a quick nod. Eavana stood behind her, tracing the base of her neck with a fingertip, muttering to herself as she did so. "Ah, quite powerful, dear. With proper training, you may just be a witch for the ages."_

_Locasta blinked rapidly as she realized Eavana was finished and there was no need for the examination to be as awful as the government officials made it be. _

_Not only were they locking witches away, they were torturing them._

"_Please," She said, turning with desperate, anger-driven motivation in her eyes. "Train me. We have to stop the way our people are being treated. We have to change things. We have to save the witches."_

* * *

Locasta finished her cup of tea and took Glinda's, making them disappear to the kitchens for washing. "That family took me in like I was their own. The father, Torix, was a farmer with a mountain flock of sheep, goats, and cattle. He sold their product in the local towns below the mountains, some six miles out of the forrest surrounding it. We made a trip about once a month, but for the most part, they sustained themselves."

"What sorts of magic was Eavana capable of?" Glinda questioned, pulling a blanket she'd summoned further over her chest, snuggling into it.

"All kinds. While she wasn't as powerful as I am, she could at least instruct me. We built a wonderful relationship in quite a short time. When I wasn't with her on the very top of the highest portion of the mountain, I spent all my time learning how to survive in even the bleakest conditions from Torix and Faelan. I wanted to be prepared for whatever life might throw at me as I made myself ready to lead an army of good witches to show the people of Oz that those in the White City were the wicked ones — not us." She leaned back a bit, about to continue when a small voice interrupted them.

"There you are!" China Girl bounded into the room, her hands on her hips as she looked up at the two women with a pout. "You said you'd come get me from the school after you finished healing!"

"Oh, goodness!" Glinda pressed her palms to her face in shock that she'd forgotten such an important detail. "I'm so sorry, love. I was having a difficult time and we just came back to take a break and...oh, dear, I'm really sorry." She reached a hand down to scoop China Girl into her lap, covering her with a corner of the blanket. "Can you forgive me?"

China Girl tried to fight a smile but finally let it break through with a shrug. "I suppose." She burrowed into Glinda's side. "What are you both talking about?"

"She just wants to hear some old lady's tale." Locasta stood, her back cracking as she did. "I'm off to fetch something to show her. China, why don't you try reading to Glinda while I'm gone, dearie."

"No," The animated doll groaned.

"Yes," Glinda teased gently as Locasta brought a collection of simple children's stories to her. "Just one, I promise." She dropped a kiss to the top of the China Girl's head. "And then tonight I'll read to you before bed."

They started at the first page of a tale Glinda had memorized as a child from reading it so often. Listening to China Girl struggle over almost every word was laborious and nearly a painful task to sit through, but she did, only offering help where she thought China Girl truly couldn't get the word out. "Remember, love. When a -t and an -h are next to one another, they create one sound. -Th, like _th_umb or _th_anks."

China Girl tossed her head back against Glinda's chest. "Do I have to keep going?" She sighed.

"Two more pages left, dear. Come on, let's try to finish before Locasta gets back."

Barely managing through, the story was thankfully over, and Locasta had returned with a box of trinkets to presumably use as aids to reveal her past.

"I stayed with them for almost two years, honing my skills and developing new ones," The old witch started, "Within those two years, I grew close to Eavana in a way which she was almost a replacement for my own mother...and closer still, to Faelan."

_At some point, Locasta had taken over Faelan's comfortable, feather-stuffed bed, while he'd willingly slept night after night on the makeshift cot they'd permanently made on an L-shaped angle in the room. After a particularly exhausting day of discovering her ability to call upon her raw magic and make it physical, to later manipulate it, Locasta had all but passed out before supper in the proper sleeping quarters._

_Faelan smirked as he watched her sleep, knowing her peaceful expression would be gone in about ten seconds. Lifting the copper pans he'd brought into their shared bedroom, he winced before clapping them together with a pained noise over her head, earning a shrill shriek. Locasta shot up from the bed, her long blonde locks nearly standing on end as she shot one hand out to his neck and the other toward the wand that Eavana had fashioned for her to hone her magic in automatic self-defense._

"_You great moron!" She yelled, letting her hands both drop to her sides as she caught her breath while Faelan doubled over in laughter, crying from amusement. _

"_Your f-f-face," He sputtered, dropping the pans and falling side ways on the bed as he cackled loudly, far too proud of himself. Composing his features, he gave a great sigh before a few more laughs escaped and he sat up, posing a fake apology. "I've been waiting to really get you for ages. That's revenge for taking over my bed."_

_At this, Locasta flushed, running a hand over the back of her head. "You weren't complaining. 'Sides, you got to sleep in a bed for seventeen years. I haven't had one in at least five, and for most of my life I slept on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace at my grandparents. I think it's my turn."_

_Faelan shrugged, his lopsided grin spread over his freckled face. "I'm not complaining. Come on, I came to get you to help find something to kill for dinner."_

_The witch glanced out of the cottage window, estimating the time by the amount of light left. "You all haven't eaten yet?"_

"_Ma and Pop went into town shortly after you passed out. They're staying the night in the inn to get a good spot in the marketplace in the morning. Just you and me tonight," He wiggled his eyebrows and Locasta shoved her hand in his face, pushing off him to the corner of the room where her boots were standing neatly. Tugging them on, she laced them all the way before pulling a cloak over her frame. "Ready?"_

_He grabbed his bow and arrow set and led them out the door. Winding around the mountain, they made haste to a clearing, ready to hunt a few game birds before darkness took over for the evening._

_After only twenty minutes, they had enough to last at least a week, since the temperature had dropped significantly for the season and could keep the meet cold and sanitary. Locasta had shot the last three birds in perfect form, earning a compliment from her more experienced partner. _

"_You aught to learn a spell that keeps the blood from rushing to your cheeks whenever I say something nice to you."_

_At this, Locasta felt her entire face turn red and she hid her head in her cloak, muffling something that Faelan couldn't make out. _

"_What was that?" He teased, slinging the birds over his shoulder and nudging her side with his elbow. _

"_I just don't take compliments well." She huffed, crossing her arms as they traveled back towards the mountain. "And I'm still put-off by kindness."_

"_Aw, come on, Castie," Faelan quipped, "You've been here for like ten months! You can't still be surprised by the human spirit, can you?"_

_Locasta twitched at his nickname, but choose to tackle the true subject instead. "When you were treated like something other than human, I suppose you can."_

_They were silent for the rest of the trek back to their home, where they made quick work of preparing the birds and fresh bread that Eavana had left them for dinner. After cleaning up in silence, Locasta made her way back to their bedroom, peeling off her outer garments, settling on a cozy, worn, over-sized shirt that had been Torix's. Using her wand, she lit a candle and settled on top of Faelan's former bed with a book on modern concepts of healing with magic. It was some time before Faelan had the courage to join her, eventually sulking into the room, removing all his clothing except for his bottoms and slinking onto the bed next to her, looking up with pitiful green eyes. _

"_Oh, honestly," She sighed after he'd been staring for a solid five minutes. Slamming the book shut and tossing it to the floor on top of her cloak, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a raised brow. _

"_I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. I just think it's funny that we've known each other for so long, have nearly spent our lives together for the past ten months, and I can still make you blush. It's kind of nice, actually." He picked up one of her hands, surprised when she didn't immediately rip it away from him. "You know I care about you, and I hate knowing that anyone ever treated you as though they didn't."_

_Locasta gave a single nod, swallowing a lump that was forming in her throat. "I know, Fae. I'm sorry that I still get so worked up over old events. I guess it's just a little stress from years of trauma is all."_

_Faelan sat up and pulled her into a hug, which once again caused a tinge of pink to appear against Locasta's pale cheeks as she tucked her right one into his shoulder, her nose against his neck. "You know, your parents aren't here to give you your nightly reminder that you need to be a proper gentleman and sleep in your cot." She sat up and winked, pulling the quilt on the bed down. "Maybe you forgot without their presence." He laughed and stood to grab his pillow before returning to lay next to her, blowing out the candle and drawing the blankets over them. "Just remember to keep your hands in decent places, I know you've got dirty thoughts in that ginger-covered brain of yours."_

_With an additional chuckle, Faelan turned on his side, daring to wrap one arm around Locasta's middle. She squeaked but smirked, nodding that it was alright. It felt right to have him next to her as her body began to slow into a slumber. As their breathing took on the same rhythm, both knew that this would only be the first of many nights they'd spend together._

* * *

"He made me this...goofy necklace about a week after that first night," Locasta sighed, taking out a piece of twine with an arrow-head wrapped around it in the middle. Glinda took it, turning the ancient gift over in her hands for China Girl to see. "It's the tackiest piece of jewelry I've ever owned, yet...my favorite. He said that—"

"Your Wizard has returned!" Oz's voice cried from the doorway, interrupting the storytelling and earning all three women's smile and attention.

China Girl was the first to get up, scrambling down from her seat and practically sprinting as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Oz was immediately at her level, scooping her into a tight hug with a kiss on the cheek to boot. "Did you have some quality bonding time with the girls?" He questioned, earning an overly-excited nod in agreement.

"You have to come into the city with me! It's so big and fun and full of things to do! You'll love it, I just know you will! And Glinda said we could have a tea party and that you'll have to wear a tutu and a silly hat!" She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands as she slid down Oz's leg as the Wizard gave his lady interest a shady look, earning a cringe.

The young witch squirmed under the blanket, tucking her legs up to her chest as he moved closer to the chair. She winced, trying not to smile too wide. He made a motion as if he were about to attack her with some sort of tickle-fest, but Locasta quickly put a stop to any fun as she asked, "Was your task successful?"

"Better then we could have anticipated," Oz proudly stated, reaching into his coat pocket and producing a neatly rolled scroll. "And written up with full detail."

Locasta gave an impressed raise of an eyebrow as she took the parchment from him. "Picking up faster than I could have hoped, Wizard. China, come, dear. Let's leave these two alone for a bit."

"But I—"

The older witch gave a wink and reached down for China Girl's hand. "They need some alone time, my dear."

As the two left, Oz made a motion for Glinda to scoot over in the oversized chair, which they both shared with no space between them. She lifted her legs over his for room, giggling when he stuffed his arm around her. "So, what exactly was this top-secret mission?" She questioned, looking up with wonder in her eyes.

Feeling a touch dramatic, Oz began recounting the story. "As Finley and I arrived at High Munchkinland Town, we immediately realized there was an atmosphere of injustice about us."

"Oh yeah?" Glinda cringed into a smile, "And what did you do about this injustice?"

"I called upon the elders of the town, demanding an audience with them. We gathered and arguments lasted through late that first evening, and even later the second. But by the end of it all..." He lowered his voice to be more serious, "I convinced them that keeping half-breed and quarter-breed Munchkins as servants, and in some places, slaves, was unacceptable. We agreed that they could still work for the same High Munchkin families, if they choose, for a fair and decent wage. While most of them were treated well, there were many that were not. In those cases, an investigation led by the Emerald City will take place. We're going to build a housing unit for these folks until they can find regular employment and save for their own homes down the road. They will be allowed to marry outside of half- and quarter-breeds and everyone is being awarded full citizenship of the land of Oz."

Glinda's jaw dropped and she stared at him, unblinking as she comprehended exactly the movement he'd started. "I-I'm...speechless," She balked, shaking her head as feelings of pride lodged into her chest. She gave a little cry and twisted her body to hug him fully, both arms wrapped tight around his neck. "I knew you could be the Wizard we needed," She whispered, clutching him in such a way that she never wanted to let go.

Oz embraced her in return, his chin upon her shoulder as his hands fell to her lower back. He couldn't help the smile that graced his face as he stated. "I just thought of you — what you'd want for the people. What words I should use to not sound like I was better than them or degrading the Munchkins...I just found my inner goodness and let it go."

Glinda sat back, making herself comfortable as she was now mostly on his lap. Keeping a hand on the back of his head, she sighed. "Isn't it better to be good than great?" She quizzed, unable to contain the sparkle of a grin on her face.

He pressed his forehead against hers to nod then leaned back, sighing contently. "I also convinced them to lower their local taxes on the farming people, though that hardly seemed like a task compared to everything else."

"I'm so proud of you, Oscar." Glinda shook her head in disbelief, tilting her face to place a kiss on his cheek as a welcome back.

There was a brief moment of silence before Oz asked, "And what were you able to accomplish here while I was gone?"

"Oh!" Glinda closed her eyes for a moment, calling upon her magical energy and opening her palm, where a large ball glowed a near-blinding white. "This...is raw magic. Once you can summon it on your own, you can manipulate it into anything." Oz stared at the light, his lips parted as he tried to understand it. "You can turn it into a weapon or...a healing tool. I learned to heal wounds, cure illnesses, and even fix internal problems. This morning I saved a three day old baby's life. She was born with a hole in her heart and I was able to fix it." She gleamed, clearly proud of herself.

It was Oz's turn to lose the ability to talk as he choked on words, trying to find an intellectual way to congratulate Glinda on her accomplishment. "It's amazing and...beautiful, really. It's magic I couldn't have seen in my wildest dreams while living in Kansas." He reached out and Glinda transferred the ball to float on top of his palm, keeping control over it, but letting him at least seem as though he was part of the magical experience. He swallowed hard, feeling emotional at the lightness and positivity he felt gliding through his whole body as he held the raw particles of Glinda's goodness.

She used slow control to call it back to herself, leaving the air heavy in a way that neither of them could describe in words. Rather, Oz simply put one hand on her waist and threaded the other through her hair, letting his face draw closer to hers as he whispered. "I missed you greatly. I know it was only a total of three days but...Truly, I did. It was odd being away from you for so long, since I haven't while in this land."

Glinda felt woozy as he touched her — so close, wonderfully close. Her heart was pounding and without asking for permission, she closed the gap between them, securing her lips to his.

Thankfully, he responded this time, instead of pushing her away, despite their non-relationship. At this point, neither of them could deny the physical pull that existed between them. Both of Glinda's hands tugged on the back of his neck, and she opened her mouth just a little, enough to invite him in. She groaned low in her throat, her fingernails scraping at his hairline.

Oz's hand dropped from her waist to her leg, which had at some point all but straddled his waist. Running a hand up from just below her knee, it traveled under the white skirt she wore. A shiver ran through her and Glinda fought at his mouth, demanding her way into his with a nip at his lip. He gladly accepted and her hips moved up of their own accord as she slid her tongue against his.

His hand moved up until it was at the line of the thin undergarment she wore, and consumed in his actions, Oz reached a finger up and Glinda gasped. The room was suddenly much darker, as a zap of magical electricity put out all the candles surrounding them.

Glinda's face and neck flushed fiercely and she twisted her legs to make a hasty exit. Confused, Oz grabbed her waist and tucked her against him, now in an almost cradle-like hold from the way she'd tried to escape. She pushed an arm against his chest, wanting to run in embarrassment, but his grip was too firm.

Burying her face in her palms, Glinda refused to look up. Oz glanced down with a reassuring smile and pressed a kiss to her hair, right above her ear after he whispered, "It's okay."

"Physical intimacy breeds a lack of magical control," She sighed through a ball forming in the back of her throat, still refusing to remove her hands from her face. She'd thought that perhaps they were the couple the books from ages past hadn't written about. But then again, in the time she'd known him, Oz had never attempted the form of intimacy that nearly happened seconds earlier.

"It's okay," He stressed, gently tugging the back of her head up and close to his chest. Not knowing what else to say, he simply nuzzled his cheek on top of her hair, biting his bottom lip as the lingering answer to the problem was at the forefront of his mind.

* * *

Oz rolled on top of his bed later that night, after spending time with China Girl working on blending different letter sounds together. (Being one of the few educated folks in the traveling circus, he'd spent a good time teaching quite a few basic literacy skills.) Finley was seated on a cherry-wood trunk at the end, having been waiting through the evening, knowing better than to ask what was wrong in front of Glinda.

"How are you supposed to be in any sort of relationship with a woman if you can't touch her?" He groaned, pulling a pillow over his face.

"It's not all about the physical—"

Oz sat up, eyebrows knitted together as he exclaimed, "I know but I _like_ the physical."

Finley laughed. "So that's all that your moping is about. Here I thought there was a real problem. Well, you've got two hands, Oz. I'll leave you for the evening."

Meanwhile, Glinda paced in front of a window in Locasta's room, waiting for the witch to reappear. She needed answers and she needed them quickly.

"Oh, sit down before you wear a hole into the stone, dear," The old witch sighed as she entered through the doorway. "And for goodness sake, take the crown off! I know you are the queen—"

Glinda paused her rapid steps, approaching Locasta with a serious face. "I don't wear it so everyone knows I'm the queen. I wear it because my father gave it to me and it's weight on my head reminds me of his presence."

Locasta opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find an argument in that. Seeing none, she gestured to a bench at the edge of her bed. "Now, I know you had a loss of control earlier — don't try denying it!"

"I'm not!" She groaned, hiding her face again, explaining with a muffled, "He barely even touched me and the magic just shot out like fireworks!"

The older witch gave a chuckle. "Glad you've got that word in your vocabulary for a simile..." When she looked down to see Glinda fighting tears, she sighed and took a seat next to her. "Oh dear, it's alright. Better then setting the kitchen on fire like I did the first time Faelan got too close!" She gave a hearty laugh at the memory. "Oh, darling, soul-binding really is the only way to completely prevent such mishaps."

Glinda turned her head against the old woman's shoulder, wrapping a hand around her arm. "What's it like? The first time you get to...you know, be really intimate?"

"I had a feeling this question was coming." Locasta patted the hand that was around her and gave a great sigh. "The first time is actually pretty uncomfortable. There's a lot of strange things going on and your whole mind and body are just in a complete state of being overwhelmed, but after the initial shock and discomfort are over...it's actually quite...wonderful."

"_I told the two of you to stop fooling around or he'd find out," Eavana lectured as she had Faelan and Locasta seated on opposite ends of their family sofa. "I could handle a small kitchen fire, but...you made the pipes burst, dear! I couldn't fix that in as quick of a jiffy. Now you're in for it, the both of you." She crossed her arms over her chest, walking up and down the floorboards of their small living area. "When he gets back, just be ready for the reaming of your lifetime."_

_Locasta stole a glance at Faelan, who was sitting as straight as possible, barely breathing. She was more worried then she let on by her posture — honestly, she was sixteen, he seventeen. They could do what they choose with their bodies, could they not?_

"_It's not about what's appropriate or not, dear," Eavana said as if reading the witch's mind. "It's about what is safe. I've told you about intimacy and soul-binding! You can't have one without the other, and you're not ready for that!"_

"_But what if we are?" The blonde argued, twirling her thumbs together, attempting to find supporting details to outline to convince her teacher otherwise. _

_Eavana gave a sympathetic click of her tongue before kneeling in front of Locasta, shaking her head. "You're only sixteen, love. Still have many years before you. First love isn't necessarily true love."_

"_It could be," Locasta insisted, "I haven't left this mountain side since I arrived nearly a year ago. I've not met anyone outside of this family or the girls in the asylum since I was ten. You said it'll be about four more years before I'm really right as a witch, so it's not like I can go meet someone else and fall in love." She reached a hand for Faelan's, which he gladly took with a little squeeze. "Fae is my best friend, and I can't help but want to be more."_

"_And I feel the same, Ma," The redhead shrugged. "She's more than got my heart, she is my heart."_

_Locasta flushed, her palms sweating in anticipation. Torix suddenly made his appearance from the front door, his arms dangling awkwardly at his sides. With a great breath, he questioned, "So, when is the soul-binding ceremony?"_

_Eavana strode over to him as the two teenagers sat, wide-eyed and astonished. "Don't you think we should have a conversation of our own before we allow this to happen?"_

"_I think we should let them decide for themselves if this is what they want for the rest of their lives. When you know, Eava, you know. We knew. We weren't much older then they are now."_

_Faelan stood, moving over for a fatherly hug, looking a few inches up at his father with a smile. "How's thirty-four days from now sound? On the anniversary of Locasta's arrival into our lives?" He questioned, leaning back to look at his soon-to-be bride and soul-partner. _

"Did you find your family and invite them to the ceremony?" Glinda asked of Locasta, hoping for a spot of brightness in the old witch's life.

"No, dear. I actually never did find my father. A few years after Fae and I married, we went to see if they were still living in the same place. The house had been ransacked and it appeared no one had lived there in years. My grandparents I know died at the hands of the White City army, thinking they were withholding information on my whereabouts. But what happened to Quelala, I'll never know."

Glinda looked down. At least she'd knew what became of her father. "What's soul-binding even like?"

"Well, mine was different than yours will be, should you bind with the Wizard. Since Faelan was non-mortal with about half-magical abilities, we were able to do the traditional way. And, we also kept to the tradition of having a small, wedding-like ceremony. It was just Fae and his parents, but it was perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything more." Her face was completely serene as she fell into the memory of one of her life's highlights.

_Eavana laced up the back of a dress she'd hand-sewn for Locasta for the day. Wearing pure white, quite a change from her usual shades of blacks and purples, Locasta looked radiant. She'd put her hair in rags the night before, and the locks were now flowing and curling around her waist, with a few strands pulled back and held to the side with a silver, flower-shaped clip Eavana had worn on her own wedding day. _

_It was chilly that afternoon, and Locasta was thankful her mother figure had put together a dress with sleeves, embroidered with hundreds of matching white flowers down the sides. As she buckled the strap of a pair of white shoes, also borrowed from the older witch, Locasta turned, not normally one to give a flying monkey's behind about appearances, she to asked Eavana, "How do I look?"_

"_Positively the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. You look like a princess, my dear. I'm so blessed to have had you find your way into our lives," She choked on a lump in her throat, "And I'm so incredibly happy you've found true love in my son. You've both made me the proudest mother and witch in this great land, I'm sure."_

_Locasta tossed her arms around Eavana's shoulders, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, for everything."_

_She wrapped a hand around the crease of the older woman's elbow, and together they made their way out of the small cottage and up the mountainside, where Faelan and Torix were standing, both in their best suits. Upon sight of his bride, Faelan broke into the widest smile he'd ever make, rushing to greet her from his mother, who moved to his father's side as the two of them exchanged greetings._

"_You're stunning," He whispered into her ear as he drew her close for a hug before pulling her back to look fully at her dress. "Absolutely amazing."_

_She flushed, her blue eyes memorizing the expression in his green ones before she touched his cheek and dared to ask, "You're sure you want to spend the rest of your life with a witch?"_

_He leaned forward to peck a kiss on her lips before replying, "I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_They laced fingers on opposite hands then made their way to Faelan's parents, who beamed at them._

"_Faelan, Locasta," Torix began, his beefy body towering over the couple, "We've gathered here today, on the anniversary of Locasta's first night with us, to unite the two of you in not only marriage, but a lifetime of soul-partnership. This unification will be a symbol of not only your love, but complete devotion to one another. Faelan, are you prepared to take such a commitment?"_

"_I am," He grinned, locking eyes with Locasta, who couldn't help the blush that continued to stain her cheeks._

"_And Locasta, are you, too, prepared to take such a commitment?"_

"_I am," She nodded, barely breathing._

"_Will the two of you accept one another, no matter what conditions, years, or plights may challenge you?"_

"_We will," They said in unison._

"_Will the two of you continually renew your soul-bond, knowing such intimacy that it requires to sustain your relationship?"_

_At this, even Faelan's face turned red, but they responded anyway, "We will."_

"_And are you ready to be united, first in marriage, then in soul, on this day?"_

"_We are."_

_Torix took a simple set of silver rings from the hands of his wife, handing one to Locasta first. "Place this finger on the left middle finger of Faelan, then read your vow to him."_

_After a deep breath, Locasta slid the band onto the digit, letting her promise to him fall from her lips. "Faelan, I vow to love you, and only you, for the rest of our days. I vow to never forget the promise I make today, no matter what adversities we face or temper that I may flare." At this, Faelan gave a small chuckle. "I vow to take care of you in every way I can."_

_He leaned forward to kiss her cheek before taking the smaller ring from Torix and moving it up the middle finger of Locasta. "Locasta, from the moment I found you in the forest, I knew you'd become one of my most precious people. I vow to always keep you the most precious in my life, and no matter what lies ahead, I will be prepared to face it with you."_

"_Now that you have spoken your vows, I decree, that Faelan and Locasta, you are married in the land of Oz. Let all who meet you know of your devotion to one another through this bond." _

_Faelan took Locasta's face in his hands, pressing a warm kiss to her lips before Eavana took her step forward for the soul-binding portion of their ceremony._

"_There's nothing to describe the sacrifice it takes to completely devote your soul to your partner. But today, you're making that leap ahead, as you prepare to spend your lives in one another's arms. First, you will drink the potion prepared for you, as your bodies prepare to unite as one."_

_Torix passed each of the couple a chalice, which they linked their arms together to drink from. Both trying not to gag on the horrid taste, they managed to down the solution and Eavana continued. "Now, I shall perform a spell that has been passed down to aid those who seek to bind themselves to one another. After this, Torix and I shall leave for town, as the two of you need to finish this process on your own."_

_She winked and the new couple flushed in unison once more before taking the moment serious and gripping each other's hands as Eavana closed her eyes, speaking ancient words and dousing them in a smooth electricity of a spell, which filled every portion of their bodies, causing them both to gasp as a tightening sensation swelled at their hearts. _

"_Now, my dears," She said quietly, breathing deeply from the stamina required of the spell. "Bond yourselves together. Love is greatest when it is shared."_

Glinda was practically giddy as Locasta retold her story of her most precious day. "So...how was that first night?" She ebbed, her hazel eyes twinkling.

"Well, as I already told you, dearest, the first time is...just awkward, we'll say. But Torix and Eavana were kind enough to give us four days alone. It got much better as we, well...continued to practice." Glinda giggled and tugged her knees to her chest. "I'm not giving you a play-by-play."

"Please?" She whined, forcing a wide smile over her red cheeks as she gripped Locasta's hand. "Was he wild and rough or gentle and caring? Did he—"

"Oh enough, enough," The old witch insisted, trying not to laugh. "Who knew our queen was a want-to-be sexual deviant!"

Glinda pouted. "Come on now, all I've ever had to go on were those rubbish stories that were popular when Theodora and I returned her in our teens. The ones that Evanora found us reading and burned?"

Locasta rolled her eyes. "The one thing she did right, goodness." Her tone shifted and she tucked a hand under Glinda's chin. "All you need to know is that once you've finally got it all figured out, intimacy with the one you love the most is a wonderful experience. It'll be worth the wait, dear, I assure you." Finally accepting this as all the information she'd get on the topic, Glinda nodded and wrapped an arm around the old woman, nesting her cheek against her shoulder. After tolerating the hug for a moment, Locasta insisted, "Off to bed with you now. Tomorrow we're back to a full day of practice."

* * *

_After almost a year of marriage and living in the cottage as a couple with Faelan's parents, both he and Locasta had deemed enough of the arrangement. Feeling that she had enough magical expertise under her belt, Locasta decided it was time to find the other formerly prisoned witches, along with any others she could locate. Faelan was at her side the entire length of her journey._

_They had six good witches to their name and had founded a small camp in the Quadling country where they practiced together each day, honing power and plotting how to strike the White City and overthrow the corrupt and intolerant government that had been established for far too long. For nearly four years, they followed leads and met women from all over the land of Oz who'd been hiding in fear of the White City. By the time all had been identified, their camp had extended so widely that they'd had to create a security bubble around it, as their numbers increased over four hundred._

_Despite being of the youngest in the group, the others had deemed Locasta as their rebellious leader. She'd been fine with this until the day the propositioned that she take over as queen of their new system._

_It was six nights from when they planned to strike. Their magical contingencies and reinforcements were in place. She was lying on top of Faelan in their sad excuse for a tent, neither of them able to sleep much with the looming threat of battle. He tangled his fingers in her long hair, now several inches past her waist over their years of hiding and training. At twenty, she was a sight to behold — a truly good witch._

"_Locasta?" A voice called from outside her tent. _

"_We're decent," She replied with a smile in her voice. Only three other witches in their camp had partners, and only two, including Eavana were soul-bound. The rest had yet to find a companion in an intolerant society. "Mombi," Locasta greeted, sitting up and tucking a blanket up over her shoulders. Though she'd been a great resource to Locasta as a child, this particular witch had been trouble since they rescued her from a government-run plantation for prisoners. With radical ideas and a lose grip on her magic, Eavana and Locasta, along with the wife of future leader of the White City, were ever-drawing more suspicious of her intentions on their council. "What can I do for you?"_

_The older witch gave a great sigh, clearly nervous to divulge the information she had to share. "I would request a meeting with you regarding the future leader of the White City and land of Oz."_

"_We already decided that despite our desires, having a female leader of the whole land so soon after battle would not be the best way to proceed. We have to slowly bring forward the people's thinking. We don't want to overwhelm them and cause a riot. Pastoria," The soul-bound Quadling to the great witch Nellin, "Will be a fruitful leader, and Neelin is one of us. Surely this is enough for you as we work on a compromise."_

_Mombi's dark hair seemed to stand on end, the wrinkles in her forehead seemed deeper when she was angrier. "I disagree, there are some of us among the witches' council who feel it best if you or another witch were the leader—"_

_At this, Locasta chuckled. "I'm not fit to lead the entire land, Mombi. Hardly fit to see myself dressed and functioning in the morning."_

"_The throne belongs to a witch! Not some oaf of a man!"_

_The blonde suddenly turned serious as the old witch refused to give up. "I know you have felt wronged for many years. But that doesn't mean we deserve the throne anymore than a non-magical being. Male, female, witch, Quadling, Munchkin, or even a...mortal from a far away land! It matters not. As long as our ruler is on our side and believes in the fair treatment of all, we have won."_

"_Fair, fair...what do you know of fair?" Mombi paced at the base of the tent as Locasta reached back for her wand, just in case the woman grew too far out of control. "You gather up all the witches in the land, feel compelled to teach them fancy new spells and show them plans to storm the city! Some teenage rebel! You've not lived long enough to know how unjust this world has been!" The shrill voice of the witch was earning an audience as others of their council gathered into the tent, wands at the ready, prepared to take Mombi down if needed. The brunette twisted to face them, snarling, "You all remember the pain of being probed by the wretched leaders of the White City! You remember the agony of being starved in the asylum, then having your magic blocked and forced to work until you were nearly starved to death on those awful plantations! You all know! They need to pay for their crimes! We deserve our chance to lead the people!"_

_She lurched forward, prepared to drive her point home, but Locasta refused to let her. With a blinding light from her wand, Mombi was shot down, crashing to the floor of the tent. "I'm sorry," Locasta breathed, stepping forward and clearing her fellow witches from the woman. She winced as she drew raw magic into her hand, concentrating until it took on the shape of a choker. Placing it around the unconscious woman's neck, she sighed and looked up at the council. "I am strongly questioning her goodness. At this time, for the safety of our operation to continue, I am banishing her to the Gillikin Country. There she can stay until all of this is over. As soon as it is, I will restore her power and leave her be. Until then, she poses a serious threat to our mission."_

_Eavana took a step forward from the crowd, patting her daughter-by-marriage on the shoulder. "You've done the right thing, dear. We'll transport her tonight. You rest up."_

_The witches were gone and Locasta fell to her knees, breathing heavily as Faelan dared to sit next to her, rubbing her back. "I...I can't believe I just did that." She closed her eyes, turning away from her husband. "She just ranted about the unfair treatment she's experienced her whole life long, and I only proved it."_

"_No, no," Faelan pulled her into his lap, pressing a reassuring kiss onto her temple. "Love, you know my mother and Neelin have been just as suspicious of her motivations as you have been. It's too close to the dawn of battle to risk her slipping."_

* * *

"Good morning, sunshine," Oz greeted Glinda as he crawled over the lump that was her typical, half-lifeless morning body on the bed. He sprawled out next to her as she groaned, turning over and away from him. "Locasta was feeling generous and let you sleep in about an hour and a half, but it's almost nine and she's quite insistent that you find your way to the kitchens."

Rubbing circles on her back, Oz sat himself up and brushed her hair off the pillow before tugging it out form under her, earning a loud whine. "Don't be mean," She grumbled, propping herself up into a cobra pose on her elbows, noting a strange, overwhelming feeling of exhaustion beyond tiredness in her body. "You're not all dressed up today?"

Oz looked down, noting the slightly-wrinkled button up shirt and pair of work slacks. "She wants me to spend the day writing. Some sort of reflection piece on everything I've done so far. Thinks it'll help me as I 'travel down my journey of leadership,'" He shrugged. "If it means I can sit back on my own for a few hours and take my brain out, I'll take it." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he tugged at her sleeve. "You aught to get moving."

Glinda gave a cheeky look before stealing her pillow back and nuzzling into it. "I'd honestly just rather have her come in and yell at me if it means ten minutes more of laying here."

"Lazy," He teased, rolling off the other side of the bed. "China's up. I'm going to take her outside for a bit before she's stuck in a study with a tutor all morning." He left the room, allowing Glinda to burrow into her blankets once more.

"There's something to be said about a queen who can't get up at a decent hour," Locasta barged into the room almost a full hour later, scowling in a usual mood. "Up, _up_, Glinda!"

The blonde tugged a blanket over her shoulders, feeling an overwhelming need to cry. "I can't," She sighed, "Can you heal me?"

Suddenly filled with concern instead of annoyance, Locasta made her way to the bed, "What is it, dear?"

"I don't know," Glinda yawned, rolling over to face the witch. "Every part of me just feels sore and achy."

"Hold out your palm and call some raw magic, please," Locasta insisted. Glinda attempted to do so, producing something much smaller than her healing powers had brought forth the days before. "Oh, damn it all. You're not...ill, just magically exhausted." She sighed, snapping her fingers as she took a seat next to the young queen. "What a shame, ay? A whole day out of practice for you. Though I must admit I'm surprised you made it this long. Such intense training is not recommended for any witch. Well, such is the way of the world. You're not to leave this bed with the exception of a long, piping hot bath or my permission today. Understand?"

"Yes, maam," Glinda nodded, having no problem with the notion of spending a day beneath the quilt of her favorite place. "Could you tell Oscar?"

"Oh, but of course," Locasta rolled her blue eyes but patted the witch reassuringly. "I'll bring you up something to build up your strength. There's notes in that box I had you seal on different natural herbs that strengthen your reserves, so you know when I'm not around to yell at you. I'll be back later. You get yourself into the tub. Soak for no less than an hour. _Piping_ hot water!"

With that, she was gone and Glinda couldn't help the inner cheer she gave herself as she tossed back the sheets and moved sluggishly to the attached washroom. As she ran the water, just a notch away from scalding, she slowly undressed, every move of her muscles painful as her body attempted to restore her magic. Filling the bath with foaming soap, she let it rise nearer to the top, then stepped into the in-ground tub, sighing in the relief that the heat immediately provided. She found the side of the giant bathing area and sat along the ledge to lean her head back and close her eyes.

It was a few minutes into her relaxation when Oz sheepishly poked just his eyes into the open door, making a small noise to alert her to his presence. Glinda opened one eye, flushing, though she could claim it on the heat, and giving a small smile. "You can come in. Just no peeking."

Making himself fully shown, Oz came closer to her face, leaning over and touching the top of her head, her hair still fairly dry. "Locasta says you're magically exhausted?"

"Mhm. Too many days close together with healing so many injuries. She wasn't kidding when she said it was strenuous." Oz sat himself down on the stone floor beside her and Glinda twisted to kneel on the ledge, keeping her chest under the water, but pulling her arms over the ledge to groan and rest her warm cheek on. "I haven't felt this exhausted since I was imprisoned years ago...it's so...beyond draining."

The Wizard nodded. "I hope you'll be ready to go for tomorrow, though. I think that if you can get through a few more concepts Locasta might let us turn back to the Emerald City early. I'm about ready to get back. I'm sure you can't wait," He smirked, running his index finger down her cheek, causing her to flinch and giggle at the tickle. "China Girl's at the Gillikin school. We were walking in the town and we passed a group of girls outside their academy. She got to talking to them and next thing I knew, she was being invited as a guest in their classroom for the day. Finley offered to stay and keep an eye on her, since he'd be able to be a bit less conspicuous than I."

"Well, good. Keep her busy and in an academic environment. We're going to have that little one reading faster then she knows it."

"I hope so. I'm a fairly decent teacher, and I think if we've got a whole little team of us working with her, there's nothing we won't be able to accomplish." He winked and pushed himself up. "I'll leave you to finish up. I'm just going to do my writing in your room, if you don't mind the company?"

"Not at all," Glinda shook her head before dipping it back to wet her hair as he exited.

Finishing with a lather of different flowery-scented soaps, Glinda convinced herself to leave the heat of the bath behind, quickly rinsing and pulling herself up with a great amount of effort before towel-drying her body and twisting her hair into a tangled mess at the top of her head. Locating her robe near the door to the washroom, she tugged it over herself and returned promptly to bed, where Locasta was waiting with a tray of food.

Though she was far from hungry and in no mood to eat, Glinda knew it was easier to accept the meal than to argue with the witch, who fussed over her now-snarled hair, convincing the blonde to allow her to brush it all out after she finished eating.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, with Oz on the other side of it, hunched from a chair to the nightstand, writing hastily with a quill and ink in a blank book, Glinda felt a shiver run through her as Locasta combed out the tangles she'd made for herself, tugging occasionally, but gentle — just like her father had when she was younger. "I always imagined my mother brushing my hair for me," She confessed quietly, earning Oz's eyes and Locasta's movements to stop for a second before continuing. "I'd pretend that she simply liked my hair down all the time, since my father was rubbish at doing anything to it like a braid or a bun."

"I never knew what to do with my hair until Faelan's mother taught me. Even then, she did it most of the time she was alive. Including the day we left for battle in the White City."

* * *

_Eavana tucked a final strand of Locasta's lengthy hair into a braid before curling it into a bun at the top of her head to keep it out of her face. With the securing of a pin, the mother sighed and turned their soon-to-be leader around. She gave a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and a small, silver ring appeared in the same place. "For protection."_

_Locasta nodded and reached forward to pull the redhead into a long hug before pulling away and walking to her own tent. Faelan was double checking her bag for the umpteenth time, ensuring she had all that she would need. She smoothed her dark green frock, re-tucking the front of it into a pair of black pants that had belonged to her husband. "Would you stop," She teased, falling on her knees next to him and tugging his body close to hers. "It's all going to be fine. We're going to make it through this battle." _

_He nestled his chin onto her shoulder, puffing hair out of his eyes. "I know, love." He kissed her neck. "I'm just ready for it to all be over. Then we can settle down properly and start ourselves a little magic family."_

_Giggling, Locasta scratched her fingernails over his back, earning a groan. She nipped at his earlobe before whispering, "I'm ready for a proper home, too. I can't wait to have your babies."_

_Her husband leaned back to the balls of his heels, cupped her cheeks and kissed her hard. "Let's rally the troops."_

_If everything was going according to plan, the first two groups of witches and other magical folk were already in place at the White City or on their way. Hundreds of Quadlings, Munchkins, Gillikin people, and others from the land of Oz who knew the truth, were sent to the city in the weeks before, acting as if they were on vacation or attempting to find homes or jobs in the city, but really prepared to support the fight. Countless hours of transformation spells had prepared them all for this. _

_Locasta tugged her bag over her shoulder and Faelan did the same before they linked hands and ventured to the center of their camp, where over a hundred were waiting eagerly for her to provide the first series of instructions. "My brave warriors," She started, as they stared at her expectantly. "We're gathered now in preparation for the greatest revolution Oz has ever seen! Our years of hard work is finally about to pay off. We will no longer be a bonded people!"_

_After a cheer roared through the crowed, Locasta gave a final nod. "Everyone knows their duty. Now, go!"_

_The witches disappeared in a flash, including Eavana. A second wave of them, those who's magic was nowhere near strong enough to be used properly in a fight, were to leave by horse or foot to arrive at a time when they would be needed. Among this group, Faelan and Torix would be prepared to provide medical attention to any who may require it. Locasta turned to her husband, refusing to give in to the lump in her throat, for one last kiss before heading to the great White City._

_Eavana and Locasta arrived at the base of the White City palace under a spell of invisibility. They could see only one another, and no one could see them. Moving silently and stealthily, they made their way into the palace and ran into their positions in the throne room. The large, white space was empty and the silver throne stood bare as the leader of their land was in the guest hall as planned. Locasta tried to hide the trembling of her hands, but it did not go unnoticed by Eavana, who gripped one of them tightly. "Ready the raw magic," She commanded and Locasta grabbed hold of herself, focusing her energy into her palm. A blinding white light appeared and she grimaced in attempt to control it as she molded it into the weapon she needed. "More power, dear...concentrate."_

_Letting out a loud yell, Locasta summoned all the strength she could until a shape began to take life before them. "There!" A diamond-shape, nearly six feet in diameter spun in the air, streams of light airing off the jewel. "Your turn," The younger witch said with her palms on her knees, catching her breath. _

_Removing her wand from her wide shirt sleeve, the rod of her magical device nearly six inches shorter than the one she'd crafted for Locasta with a tiny -e in graved at the bottom, she began to mutter under her breath as she circled the gem. Locasta stood with her arms crossed, wand at the ready to strike should their privacy be unexpectedly invaded. She tapped her fingers against her upper arm, mentally keeping time as their reinforcements should have been arriving—_

_The ground rumbled below her feet and she smirked. There they were. _

_A blast occurred at the back wall of the room suddenly had a massive hole in the middle of it. Just as Eavana finished chanting, the diamond turned green and a beam of emerald light shot up through the ceiling, causing the concrete of the white expanse to crumble. Locasta quickly cast a protective shield over herself and Eavana, then cried, "Now!" For the witches to pool in from the destroyed wall. _

_Fourty-seven women appeared, wands in the air to strike, all dressed in various shades of black and green — their devoted battle colors. _

_As they anticipated, it wasn't long before their ruckus caused a herd of White City guards to burst through the throne room doors, spears in hand, but sent flying by a pulse of light from the emerald diamond._

"_Looks like there is not a drop of goodness within your hearts!" Locasta shouted, flickering from her place in front of the witches to standing with great authority over the shellshocked palace guards. "Bring me your leader!" She commanded, lifting her foot up and digging her heel into the hand of a man who dared reach for her. "There's about to be a new order to this White City! It's time for Oz to be a land of equals!"_

_As the men left for assistance, the witches gathered around their precious, magical gem. Locasta puffed a fallen blonde strand of hair out of her eyes, her heart pounding in anticipation. Everything was according to their plan so far._

_It was hardly a minute before the ruler of the White City appeared, dark hair slicked back and beady black eyes burning holes into Locasta as she stood up front, his white robes flaring behind him as he stormed angrily into his throne room. "What have you done? Who do you think you are that you dare to..." Realizing what could be occurring he turned to his guards, shouting, "Bring the healers!"_

"_Healers!" Locasta laughed, knowing exactly what he meant, taking three steps closer to the leader, "Oh, sir Albion. Do not pacify us. We know exactly what your healers do at this palace. They attempt to heal the magic out of our kind. Well, as you can see, sir...Magic can't be healed!" _

_The witches all lifted their wands and a green-hued beam shot up from the diamond, earning the wide eyes of Albion, who turned to flee, but was caught in a stream as Locasta took the power from the witches' spell and cast it against the leader. His body became stiff and he fell to the ground, giving Locasta the opportunity to lift him, floating him to his throne, where she swirled her wand over her head twice, creating a magical chain around the King. "Eavana here is going to explain to you exactly what it is that we want," Locasta smirked, setting the heel of her black boot on the arm of his chair and heeding, "I'll give you some advice, King, play along. Perhaps you'll be spared when this is all over."_

_His face was the only portion of his body that could move, and he used it in attempt to argue, "You-you're all forbidden to kill! The people of Oz are forbidden to—"_

"_But that doesn't stop the government of Oz, now does it?" Locasta's grin turned frightening before she twirled away from him, opening the hole of the ceiling wider by her magic, then slamming her hand on the diamond to emit the light and keep it shining as she gathered fourteen of the witches as planned, moving them down the hall and to the front balcony of the palace._

_As she anticipated, people of the White City had gathered in confusion at the great mess they'd already caused. She scanned the crowd, spotting blacks and greens in the sea of folks dressed head-to-toe in white. One of her reinforcing witches placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, pressing a kiss on her cheek. "Go on, dear. Tell them the truth."_

_Locasta took a deep breath and swallowed hard before stepping up to the shell-like communication device that hooked up to a series of pipes to broadcast a speaker's words. Her hands trembled, and she clutched her wand behind her back with both hands to hide this. "Good people of the White City. My name is Locasta. I represent a group of individuals who until now, you've probably assumed to have been died out. I, like my sisters here behind me and many you see around you, am a witch." _

_A gasp resounded through the gathered people as they quickly clutched to one another. Those from outside the city who the witches had sent before tried to shush the crowd so Locasta could continue to speak. Mutterings began before Locasta could get another word out, as men began chanting. "Kill her! Kill them! Kill the witch!" _

"_No, no! Listen to me, people of Oz! We are not here to harm you! We are here to expose the actions of the White City government, the very people who are supposed to protect and support you!"_

_The murmurs continued, but the witches in the audience knew what to do. Gently, so the people wouldn't notice, they cast a silencing charm upon their voices, so Locasta's was the only one who's words would resonate with them._

"_For years, they have been gathering people of my kind, locking us up or killing us on the spot! I was taken from my home when I was just ten years old. I was sent to the White City, where the 'healers' took me to the palace dungeons, running series after series of painful exams on me to determine what my magical levels would be. I was tortured and neglected here for almost six months before I was fitted with a choker that blocked my magic. They sent me to an asylum in the Gillikin Country, where I lived with fifteen other witches, many of whom are here with me today. We escaped after five years of starvation and mistreatment by the workers there. I have spent the last six years improving my magic, gathering and freeing witches, and trying to be ready for today — the day we put the power of the White City out of the hands of the corrupt!"_

_A cheer roared through the people, the Munchkins, Quadlings, Gillikin people, and even a few citizens of the White City approved of this plan. _

_No longer nervous, Locasta lifted her wand up, summoning a beam of green light from the diamond. "Please, stand with us as we transform this city from White to Emerald, as we determine who have goodness in them from those who's hearts are filled with the darkness of a truly wicked soul!"_

* * *

Whew! This has been the start of Locasta's backstory; originally intended to be a single chapter that completely got away from me! When it got to the point that this chapter was over 24,000 words, I figured it best to break it up some. We continue in the next chapter.

Most characters that appear in this chapter are original L. Frank Baum characters that I have kept partial backstories and personality traits to and intertwined them into my own story. Faelan, Eavana, and Torix are the only true original characters here. All others have been adapted or had their names changed (Albion and Nellin) to fit better in a different sort of character. The rest though, you could find original information on by searching Oz characters on Google or reading about them in Baum's books. They are free on Amazon with a Kindle or Kindle app, and at least seven of the stories are free in Audiobook format through the app "audiobooks" from the Apple Store. I personally recommend the Marvel series "Oz," which currently has trade editions of the first give books in the Baum series, only in comic form. It's much easier to get through the somewhat repetitive series this way. You can find them on Amazon or at your local comic store.

Thank you for reading and continued feedback!


	7. Chapter 7

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Seven  
**_Everything has to come to an end, sometime. _

Glinda sat in suspense as Locasta paused her storytelling. Her freshly-braided hair traveled down her back and her arms were tucked around her kneecaps as her eyes grew wide. "Well?"

The older witch stretched an arm up in the air and gave a yawn. "Darling, how about you rest, hm? I want you to take a nap for now, and we'll continue the story in a little bit." Giving a whine, Glinda made a motion to argue, but her teacher insisted, "Oz, you pause in your scribbles. Give her a good cuddle to convince her to sleep, would you? The more she sleeps the faster she'll heal."

At the command, Oz chuckled a, "Yes maam," And folded his journal up, capping the jar of ink he'd been using. Locasta quickly exited the room to give the couple privacy. Oz undid the top buttons of his shirt before rolling onto the oversized bed where Glinda was pouting.

"I'm hardly tired anymore," She sighed, rolling her eyes as she twisted her body to lay next to her Wizard. "What have you been writing?"

Oz leaned over to kiss her forehead, earning her soft smile as she moved her hands to take both of his, lacing their fingers together. "I was just about to get to the part where we nearly broke your wand at the graveyard."

She brought her left arm and his right up to a half-circle, then rested them near their hips. "That was such an odd day. I wish we could have met under better circumstances...Not that I know what those circumstances might have been. That just wasn't a very good day and it'd be nice to have wonderful memories attached to the day we first started our journey together."

"It's hard to believe that just...six weeks now? I was that great of a jackass." He laughed, removing his lowered hand from hers and using it to tug her waist closer to his. "You've done quite a number on me in such a short period of time. Many had spent years trying to change me."

Glinda groaned and closed her eyes, bringing her face to rest against his slightly-exposed chest. "I'm glad you didn't break my wand though. It was my mothers. That and my crown are all I have of hers, and though anyone can fashion a wand, hers is precious to me."

Oz rubbed her back, feeling her scars under the thin, cotton nightgown she wore. "Anyone can just...make a wand?"

"Mhm," Glinda sighed at the wondrous contact of his palm against her spine. "All it takes is fine wood and a knife to make it. They're a tool, really. Useless unless the right person has it. You use the wand to channel and focus magic...My father always said he was going to make one special for me, but...he never got to it."

Nodding, Oz tucked this information in the back of his mind for later use. Glinda flickered her eyes open and rested her chin on his chest before inching herself on top of him, a mischievous smile present on her face. She removed both hands from his body and placed her palms on the bed on either side of his bed, lowering her hips and sliding her hands so they were over his head as her face descended onto his, her lips capturing his in a long, slow kiss.

Oz couldn't help moaning as he pressed his hands against her shoulders, welcoming any advances she felt comfortable making that wouldn't cause some sort of magical explosion. He found himself flushing as she pulled away from their heated kiss to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt, then glided her hands up his chest and pressed her lips across his upper torso. The desire to rip the ribbon holding her hair in its braid was strong, but he resisted and settled for resting his hands at her sides, massaging her though the fabric.

Glinda sighed, clearly flustered as she sat up a bit on his hips, eyes closed once more as she collected herself. Suddenly shy, she bent back down to tuck her head under his chin and nuzzle against him, fingertips trailing over his abdominals. "I'm sorry that I have to constantly leave you...you know."

He turned his face to kiss her forehead, giving a small groan that included both his affections for her attempts and slight frustration that they could never continue until they performed the dreaded ceremony. "It's okay," He reassured her as he had the day before, giving her whole body a grand squeeze. She made a little noise at the contact. "I'm perfectly content just to hold you." With one more kiss to her forehead, he convinced himself of this and rested his own eyes in hope that Glinda would be able to sleep as Locasta insisted.

* * *

China Girl bounced on Glinda's bed that afternoon when she returned back to the castle after school, animatedly telling stories about her day with the Gillikin girls. "And then we went with the older girls who use the sewing lab and they showed me the dresses they are working on! We had reading groups too, and they put me in with the lower readers, but it was okay. It was a great day! Can I go back tomorrow, can I, can I?"

Glinda giggled and reached a finger out to curl around China Girl's hand. "Of course you can, sweetie. There is an all girl's school in the Emerald City, you know. That's where I went when I was younger. Maybe you'd like that better then the big school?"

"Yes, please!" China Girl jumped up into Glinda's lap, continuing to chatter away about the new friends and teachers she met. "...And Madame Rolan said that I was good at counting—"

"Oh, you're back. Just in time for afternoon tea," Locasta interrupted, carrying a tray as she made her way to Glinda's bed, where Finley, Oz, Glinda and China Girl were already gathered, with the queen and Wizard under the blankets, sitting up against the headboard and other two on top. The older witch duplicated the number of cups she had with a wave of her wand before pouring the liquid into four cups, leaving one empty and shrinking it to fit into China Girl's hands. The little girl giggled and thanked the grandma-like figure abundantly, appreciating the gesture more than she knew how to express.

"So, let's talk about the battle!" Glinda begged after a long sip of tea before shifting in her seat to be more comfortable for the story.

Locasta magicked a chair to appear next to the blonde and she downed her cup of tea, eyeing China Girl who mock-drank hers as well. "Go ahead and recap for this lot and I'll continue." As Glinda retold the story Locasta had told earlier, the older witch swallowed hard, fighting the lump that would undoubtably rise as she reminisced on the horrible day of the fight of her life.

_As she had anticipated, there was goodness in the people of the White City. Blind to the actions of their government, they were an innocent group. Locasta let a large breath pass through her before levitating over the crowd as the witches already stationed there checked for wickedness. A few were taken, cuffed with non-threatening magic, and directed to sit against the wall while they were questioned._

_Meanwhile, Locasta found a group of school children huddled together behind a statue in the city's center. She clicked her tongue and descended to the ground, carefully making her way to them, not wanting them to be startled. "Dears, we are not here to hurt you. We are here to stop the people that work in the palace from hurting others."_

_A dark skinned girl looked up, sniffing as she reached out a hand. "My mother works in the palace. She's a healer." Locasta tilted her head, sympathizing with the innocent child. "Are you going to kill her?"_

"_No, darling," Locasta insisted, bending down to tip the little girl's head up. "The people of Oz are forbidden to kill, and that includes us witches. We just want everyone to be treated fairly. And fair means that everyone gets a trial for their actions. Including healers. What is your mother's name?"_

"_Kiran. She's nice, I promise!"_

"_Well," The leader of the battle sighed. "I promise that we will do whatever we can to reunite you with her as soon as possible." She pressed her lips to the girl's forehead, where a silver ring much like the one on top of her own head appeared. "For protection. Now any witch who spots you will know you are to be trusted. Come here, children," She waved the others forward, and three boys and four more girls received the same blessing. "Go on, now. Go to your school, collect as many other boys and girls as you can on your way. You will be completely safe there."_

_Her new little army agreed and moved without hesitation. Locasta took a deep breath before closing her eyes and concentrating on the throne room, appearing there in a flash. She knew though, that from this point forward, she had to be careful. She had less than half her magical reserves left to use._

_Opening her eyes in the green-lit room, Locasta gasped as she took notice of her army of witches, laying on their sides with their wands snapped in half. Feeling woozy, Locasta met the eyes of one who was struggling to stay coherent. Preparing a handful of energy, the blonde made a move to heal the witch, but she coughed. "Save...your energy. The head healer...Jinjur...she has a magical...block. Took us all out by reversing our spells. There's about twenty...healers. You'll need backup. They took Eavana...captive. They're...in the dungeon. She wants you."_

_Locasta fought back tears as she watched the life leave from the eyes of the witch. Fighting a sob, she stood, her wand at her side, and sent out a pulse of energy to the witches outside, her signal for backup. The first team would know what to do if they received such a signal. Sure enough, in moments, a group of nearly fifty witches appeared, all gasping at the sight of their sisters on the ground, several making motions to heal them. Locasta shook her head, her eyes darkening with the pain of their first losses. "Do not. Let their deaths be in vain. We're to the dungeons. The healers are there. Their are twenty of them and they have Eavana. They have a magical block that can reflect our spells. We are not going to strike until I have figured out a way to remove the block. But first..."_

_She strode angrily to the King, whom the healers seemed suspiciously uninterested in. Locasta was not caring for what he knew or did not know, it was under his name that the horrible deeds occurred. Lifting a hand, she spoke, "I may not be able to kill you, but I can take any usefulness of your life away."_

_With a bitter flick of her wrist, the Albion went limp, his body falling in the chair. While he was still breathing, that was about all he would be able to do independently for the rest of his days._

"_Little violent, Locasta," One of the witches muttered as she lead them at a break-neck speed into the hallway._

"_At this point, we are ready to do what needs to be done. For the sake of the people of Oz everywhere __—__ I want their plans for what race they were after next. If you think these sick people were only trying to destroy witches, you'd be wrong."_

_Locasta marched onwards, not caring if they weren't silent in entering the layer of the healers, but prepared for a counterattack. "Be vigilant," She hissed to those behind her. Landing on the final step before coming to a heavy, iron door, she shouted a command and the door blew to pieces, revealing a darkened walkway, lined with lit torches._

_Spotting the end, Locasta broke into a sprint, her wand in front of her as she stepped into a room, earning a flashback to a time when she was six years old, unknowing of her own power, and standing in shackles in the empty room, waiting to be seen by the first available healer. She breathed heavily, shaking the memories of needles and gadgets prodding into her sensitive skin and remained focused on the goal. Un-equip the healers, lock them in their own dungeons to await trial. _

"_Ah, Locasta...I was wondering when you'd join us," A scratchy voice spoke, echoing throughout the room. "The little witch who could, here with her army to take us down...how...quaint. It really is a matter that you managed to escape my highly-regarded asylum. Shame I couldn't have been there that day...And to round up so many witches we'd missed over these years! I'm almost proud that you managed to bring them all into one place..."_

_Locasta hissed the name of the healer who'd spent months torturing her as a child. "Jinjur!" This wasn't about revenge, she reminded herself. This was about doing what was right. She clenched her fist that wasn't holding her wand, evening her breath as an entire crew of the healers stepped into the room, silver chains around their necks, what Locasta could only assume was their magical block. _

"_Where is Eavana?"_

"_Who?" Jinjur raised a hand to idly stroke her long, dark hair, her eyes filled with secrets. "You mean that awful redhead who went on about freedom and equality? You really aught to surround yourselves with a group of women who possess the knowledge on when to keep silent. My Army of Revolt has been silent for years. And soon," She flicked both wrists down, revealing sharp, thin knives. "Yours will be silent in their graves!"_

_As the women in Army of Revolt moved closer to Locasta's army of witches, she gave orders. "Do not attack them directly! Be creative! Channel any source you can think of."_

_Calling upon her magic, Locasta made the ground rumble, causing the healers to lose balance or speed, and giving her the opportunity to disappear from Jinjur's line of vision to begin her hunt for Eavana. Traveling swiftly through hallways, Locasta couldn't gather a magical sense of where her mother-in-law might be. Closing her eyes tightly, she sent out a pulse from under her foot, pleading that the redhead might send one back._

_It was weak, but sure enough, Eavana responded and Locasta was able to locate her in a room some three hundred feet from where she was searching. _

_She threw the door open silently, sealing it closed with magic before letting out a terrible cry. Eavana was being held by her wrists from chains attached to the ceiling, her head bowed and dress torn, a thin steak, much like Jinjur's, driven through her gut. "Hold on, hold on—" The younger witch whispered hysterically, her hands glowing with healing power._

"_N-No, 'Casta...Love," Eavana heaved with great difficulty as Locasta numbed the area and pushed the steak the rest of the way through Eavana's body before summoning power to heal the gap in her flesh. "Just...get me down..." Baffled at the woman's request, Locasta nodded, taking care to remove Eavana gently from the chains and laying her down on the sterile floor of the torture chamber. "Dear, don't...waste your magic."_

"_No!" Locasta shook her head, her lower lip trembling. "I can't do this without you! You have to live. Faelan and Torix need you, I need you! Please, let me—"_

"_They...stole my magic, love. Whatever...that thing was they stabbed through me...it...absorbed my power. Please, I'll only be a hinderance. Let me pass, darling."_

_Locasta let a loud sob pass through her as she pulled Eavana up into a cradled hug, attempting to comfort both herself and the woman she'd come to know as her mother in her final moments. "Please...dear, take my wand. Use it alongside of yours, end their reign of torture." She cried loudly again, and Eavana held a weak hand to the side of her face. "Tell Torix that he gave me all the happiness I ever wanted, and Fae how...proud I am of him. I love you, Locasta. You have been a most precious person to me. My life has been full because you were in it."_

_Pressing her cheek against Eavana's, Locasta felt the woman's last breath leave her body, and at the same time, a sensation against her forehead. Lifting a finger to her skin, she realized the protection seal was gone. The last trace of the woman's life was in her wand. As Locasta let another cry roll through her, she reached for the wooden tool, determined to end the fight once and for all._

_Knowing she couldn't attack the healers directly, Locasta slammed her foot into the ground, calling for some backup from nature. While the elements wouldn't be of any use to her deep in the dungeons of the White City palace, some of the worlds' other wonders might be able to help. _

"_You have magic. They don't," Locasta whispered to herself as she teleported into the middle of the fight, where healers and witches seemed to be bringing things to a physical level. Feeling the ground beneath her tremble, not of her own doing, Locasta smirked, spotting Jinjur against three of her top witches. The shaking of the stone grew stronger and stronger still, until a hole appeared in front of Jinjur's battle, and hundreds of thousands of mice came barreling up, all aiming for the healers. Unable to help the laugh that bubbled up through her sadness, Locasta grinned mightily as the healers shrieked and tried to move, only to find themselves attacked by the tiny creatures. A mightier army than they._

_Jinjur made an attempt to flea, but Locasta and her team had the same thoughts, manipulating the concrete below the woman's feet to come up and act as a jagged prison around her. Locasta was the first to step forward as the other women were held by the rats or other such traps being created by the army of witches. "You know...there was a time, when I was in your asylum in the North...when I thought...maybe I was truly wicked? Maybe I deserved the fate I'd been handed because I might become wicked and just hadn't realized it yet. I thought...perhaps you were doing me a favor. But, with time and educating myself...I learned that wickedness is not something that you have thrown upon you. Wickedness is always a choice, just as goodness is always a choice. I and my fellow witches have all chosen the side of good. Your heart is dark, Jinjur. The spell that my now-late mother-in-law and I created to show the people of the city who among them are good and wicked has worked. They now know exactly what it is you have been up to all these years. And once we do our best to save all that you have starved of life, we will reveal this, too."_

_Jinjur gave a chuckle. "You think that the people in this city are the only ones with wicked plans?" She threw her head back, finding herself amusing. "My dear, you might just want to check among you to see where some of your witches alliances truly are."_

_Locasta felt her palms sweat as she shook her head, not willing to accept the woman's lies. "Jinjur, your crimes need no judge to determine your guilt. As leader of the free and innocent, I am taking any useful life away from you. This way, you can harm no other person as long as your body lives."_

_Ripping the magical-absorbing, needle-like knives from her hands, Locasta first used the weapons against Jinjur, picking at the magic-blocking chain until it fell to the broken ground with a clatter. Then, with Eavana's wand pointed firmly at the wicked woman's head, she whispered a few words, and Jinjur's body went limp, unable to do any more than breathe._

China Girl was on the edge of the bed, her palms clutching tightly to the blankets. "So...were you free?"

Locasta reached out a hand, tracing a line down the small doll's cheek. "If only things were ever that simple, love...We took the rest of the healers to the dungeon prison cells. They would all receive a full trial to determine what they knew, what their role was, and whether or not they'd been coerced into it. Our death toll was thirty-nine. The King and Jinjur were sent to a hospital to live out their days. As we later discovered, hunting through documents, they were the true masterminds behind the elimination of the witches, though it seemed to be more of Jinjur's intention then the kings. Nonetheless, I stand here over five-hundred years later, completely comfortable with my decision to take the useful life from them."

Glinda nodded, knowing that her actions were not easy to justify. "What...what did she mean, by the intent of your fellow witches?"

"Ah, well. There's to the rest of that dreadful day...We moved the gem from the palace throne room the center of the White City, keeping it activated to see goodness in the people. I wanted them to understand exactly what had been happening by their own government. We decided we wanted to complete a full investigation on the torture dungeons of sorts, with written reports and diagrams for the people to see. As we began to go through the rooms, we found groups of people, some alive, some dead, that had been...experiments of sorts. The White City's next target were the Munchkins. They were doing some breeding to try and create a more pure race of people. The things we saw..." Locasta shivered. "Were truly awful, that humans in our land were treated in such a way — all because of the thoughts and twisted mind of a madwoman. Regardless, we hospitalized and healed those who could be saved. That lead us well into the night of that first day. The people gathered in the city square as I announced that we had a fair King, Pastoria, who was prepared to assume the responsibilities of leadership if the people would have he and his wife, Nellian. Since almost half the people in the city were already on our side, it was easy enough to convince them to at least give him a chance. I looked around, though, and realized our team on the ground, led by Torix and Faelan, had yet to arrive. This worried me deeply."

_Though she was exhausted beyond measure, Locasta scanned the crowd for her husband and father-in-law's fleet of semi-magical folks who'd aligned themselves to their side. They should have arrived hours before. Biting her lip, the blonde clutched Eavana's wand tight in her hand, nervous to begin her search for her family and team. _

"_Ria," She spoke to a dark-skinned witch, her eyes set hard on the gates. "The backup never arrived. I need you to collect at least eight others to join us as we make way to find them."_

"_Of course," Ria nodded, vanishing in a flash to find the requested number of witches. Locasta squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to draw the last bits of energy in her body to keep her awake. _

_Ria returned with double the amount of requested forces. Though they were all clearly tired, the team dressed in black made their way out of the city and into the forrest surrounding it. _

"_I sense someone!" One of the witches shouted, causing Locasta to come to a halt in mid-air, "To your left! About six hundred paces!"_

_With haste, Locasta was at the site, dropping through a set of trees to be at ground level, sending out a pulse of energy in hopes that someone would respond. It was weak, but after a moment, she felt it. "Fae!" She shouted, trying to hold back tears. "Faelan!" _

_The other witches joined her and she sprinted up towards the source of the magic, tears blowing over her cheeks in the wind. "Fae!" She spotted him, sitting up and looking to be having some trouble. Six other men were around him, all in various states of pain. "Fae," She fell to her knees, dropping Eavana's wand onto the dirt as she hesitated pulling him into her arms. "What's wrong, love? What happened?"_

"_C-can you..." He removed his hand from his side, revealing a large, bloody gash, oozing over his clothes. Locasta swallowed hard and nodded, closing the wound as quickly as she could. He took a deep breath, feeling significantly better before falling forward, resting his face against his wife's chest, turning his cheek to press a kiss against her covered collar bone. "We-we were ambushed. Mombi released herself from the magical block you put on her. She's...much more powerful than we thought. She had...some sort of golden cap with her, and she used it to summon an army of horrible, winged monkeys. They attacked us so viciously...we lost at least half the men. We just weren't prepared for that and...I haven't the foggiest clue where my father is. How'd you all do? Where's...mom?" Faelan couldn't speak the last portion of his question as he caught sight of his mother's wand. _

_After having held herself together for most of the day, Locasta let a loud cry fall from her lips as she bent to hide her face in Faelan's neck. "What happened?" He choked out, pulling back from her and holding her chin in his hands. "Love, tell me, please?"_

_The whites of Locasta's eyes were stained red as she dared to explain the horror she'd come across in the White City dungeons. "She-she wanted me to have her wand, to finish off the leader of the...healers...Mombi!" She paused in her mourning to turn to the group of witches who were working on helping the men. "Mombi is the witch Jinjur was warning us of! They must have been working together!"_

_For a moment Faelan tried to understand, but in his distress and pain, there was hardly a plan he could formulate to help the witches._

"_Locasta," Ria sighed, "There's hardly a tenth of our army here. We're exhausted and soon to run out of magic. I suggest we take the night and camp here, rest up, and head North in the morning."_

_Locasta was prepared to argue, but one look at Faelan's anguished state which mirrored her own, she gave a single nod in agreement. "There is nothing we can do. It's to be dark within minutes and I haven't the strength to fight another wicked woman today."_

_She grabbed Eavana's wand and stood, extending a hand down to Faelan, who accepted it and led them a hundred or so feet away from the rest of their party. Finding privacy in a group of bushes, Locasta fell back to the earth, finally letting every token of feeling she'd welled up explode in a miserable fit. Faelan sat next to her, his right fingers finding their way her shoulder, where he rested them for comfort, utterly numb._

_With care, he took up his mother's wand in his opposite hand, tracing the -e at the bottom with his thumb. "She did not die in vain," He whispered, sliding down on his knees to lay next to Locasta. She slid her body over his, wiping at her disastrous face with her sleeve before pressing a watery kiss to his lips. He responded urgently, tangling a hand into her braid that was falling out all over, blonde hair frizzy as ever. _

_She felt tears wetting her cheeks and she was fairly sure they weren't hers this time. Daring to peak an eye open, she glanced at his troubled features, his forehead crumpled in sadness. She pulled away from him to stroke the skin just above his eyebrows, providing the most empathetic face she could muster. Barely managing to provide him the simplest tenderness was driving her mad. She whispered, "Love, I haven't any comfort for you, I'm afraid."_

"_You're still here, Locasta," He blubbered, drawing her lips back to his for a short kiss and stating, "So long as I still have you, it's comfort enough."_

"_And I you," She responded, squeezing her eyes closed, her long, dark lashes wet once more. "Our family is broken. And I fear for your father. I want to find him now."_

"_No, no...My father is strong," Faelan insisted, tugging her to rest against him. "But if something dreadful has happened to him, we won't be of any use in this state. We must sleep, love."_

_She rolled over onto her back, wanting the firmness of the ground against her back as she knew sleep would be critical to regaining her energy and strength. She took Faelan's hand, kissing the back of his knuckles and closing her eyes, refusing to give another thought to the tragedy of the day as she felt sleep overcome her._

_They woke at the earliest signs of morning, meeting back up with the witches and men they'd separated from the night before. _

"_There's a bad storm brewing," Ria sighed, as her powers were particularly tied to the weather. "We've got hardly an hour before it makes landfall. We must get to the Gillikin center before then."_

"_Alright," Locasta nodded, formulating a plot in her head. "We'll fly. Grab a hand and we'll be off." She reached for Faelan, gripping his mother's wand. "I don't want to have to concentrate enough to have you independently flying. For now, just grip tightly."_

_They made it to the North at record speed, with Locasta immediately feeling her heart drop to her stomach. She swore under her breath, her grip on Faelan's hand intensifying. Small fires raged and a dark scar from previous ones had wrecked the once bustling main city in the Gillikin Country. "Where to start?" He questioned as her mind spun. _

"_You and the other men look for survivors. Do what you can to get them to safety. And..." She fished into her sleeve, removing her own wand and passing him his mothers. "You've got enough magic in you to send out an S.O.S. signal or contact me when everyone is safe. I'm going after Mombi."_

_She floated them down, signaling for the rest of the witches to draw around her. "We have to end this. Today."_

_Faelan grabbed her face and kissed her hard. "If you find my father, send me a message."_

"_I will, love."_

_She stomped the ground as the men left in search of Gillikin survivors, sending out a trace to gather a sense of Mombi's location. "About ten minutes into the heart of the city," She muttered, turning to the witches. "Do not attack her directly. She's unstable, magically and emotionally. My goal is to take her down and completely strip her magic from her. If we can get her some mental help, that would be best. But she is now a criminal and must be tried for her crimes. We cannot excuse what she's done, despite any feelings of justice you may have."_

_They travelled together, through the deserted city. Locasta was not surprised to find Mombi sitting on the throne of what was left of the Lord of the North's castle. "I see you've decided a witch shall be in power," The blonde started, her wand down as she approached Mombi in as non-threatening way as possible. _

"_Everything is soon to be as it should. You've already destroyed Jinjur. Taken down Albion. I'm just here to clean up the North. It's my territory now, and there's nothing you can do to change that, Locasta."_

"_I suppose not, Mombi—"_

"_Jinjur was the reason all this happened in the first place!" Mombi's dark eyes were wild while she started to rant on. "You know, we were friends, once! When we were children, everything was wonderful. But then, I started to show signs of magic. And everyone was scared of me! Jinjur convinced all the other kids in this Northern kingdom that I was some sort of freak who'd wind up destroying or hurting them! When in reality, she was simply jealous that I was a witch and she wasn't. She spread vicious lies about me and eventually had me ostracized from our little country-side school. She moved to the White City and had everyone convinced that all witches were wicked! Now we are taking our reputation back!"_

"_Yes, by burning down cities and killing the people within them?" Locasta nodded with a sarcastic smirk. "That's really a great way to show that you're a good witch!"_

_Mombi stood, slightly taller than Locasta. "You wouldn't understand!"_

"_Tell me, Mombi," Locasta whispered, encouraging the crazed witch to rattle on so her reinforcements could move in with a strike. "Help me understand."_

_The witch growled, raising her hands up, blue flames circling above them. "I protected you, you know! Told you how to train yourself up! And this—" She whipped around backwards, eyes set on the witches in the rubble of the castle, wands drawn, "Is how you intend on repaying me?"_

_Locasta winced and drew her wand, shooting a sharp wind to put out Mombi's flames, infuriating the woman. _

_She was prepared to strike as her witches slowly circled the woman, but felt a pulse run through her that caused her heart to skip a beat. Swearing, she blasted Mombi back, causing her to flip against the throne. Wasting no time, she disappeared in a flash, sensing the location that Faelan had sent a beat from. "Fae!" She shouted, landing ungracefully on her side before pushing herself up to spot her husband cradling his father. "Torix!" _

_She skidded on her knees in front of them, likely wearing holes in her already beat-up clothing. "He's unconscious, bleeding from the back of his head!" Faelan managed to spill out as his hand trembled while applying pressure._

"_Damn," Locasta sighed, lifting her own wand above his head and pooling magic into her hand to manipulate it for healing. "D-damn, Fae. It's...it's bad. I-I'll try, but I can't promise you what sort of quality of life he's going to have."_

_Faelan struggled to fight off tears and shook his head, squinting his eyes. "Can you at least get him alert enough for me to say good-bye? I didn't get to for mom. Please, Locasta?"_

_His green eyes searched her blue ones for empathy. She nodded, biting her lip as she channeled enough energy through her father-in-law's skull to allow him to wake. _

_He did so with a gasp, clearly stirred as she ran a calming spell over him. "It's alright, dad..." Faelan said as he rested the man's head in his lap. "I just...I just wanted to say that...I love you. You've been a wonderful father for me."_

"_And me," Locasta whispered, allowing her tears to drip clean-streaks down her cheeks. "Thank you, for everything you've done."_

"_Wh-where's...'Ana?" _

_Faelan bowed his head, kissing his father's temple. "You'll get to see her soon, dad," He choked, giving one loud cry before sucking in a large breath of air. "She's already gone, but...you'll get to see her soon. Unless, you want Locasta to heal you?"_

_She gripped Torix's hand, "I can't promise you what you'll be able to do when I'm done but...you'll be—"_

"_No," Torix coughed, a low rasp in his throat. "No, love. I'd rather be with my wife." He smiled, weak as he was. "Did...you stop Jinjur?"_

_Locasta nodded, moving her palm to cover his chest, giving pressure to make breathing a bit easier. "She and Albion are gone. We'll be moving into phase two as soon as we get Mombi under control...Eavana sacrificed herself, Torix. But, I was with her, at the end and...she wanted me to tell you how happy you made her..."_

"_She'll tell me soon, I bet," He gasped and grabbed at Faelan's arm. "Son, take care of your wife."_

_Faelan gripped back, as the reality of watching his father die sank in, he wasn't prepared to let go. "Dad, what if she can heal you—"_

"_No, no...son, it is time for the old generation to pass. It is your turn to create a beautiful world, filled with blessings for your own children." Wheezing, he begged, "Locasta, can you...end this?"_

_She bit the inside of her cheek, hesitant, but willing to end his suffering. "I can..."_

"_But you can't kill—" Faelan prepared to argue, but Locasta cut him off._

"_It's not killing. It's the ending of suffering."_

"_I love you, both of you. Stay strong," Torix closed his eyes. "And don't let me meet either of you any time soon."_

_Both gave a sad laugh, agreeing as they said their final good-byes. Locasta gave a heavy sigh but with a quick flick of her hand, his heart stopped beating._

_Locasta prepared to draw her husband into a long, comforting embrace, but his eyes darkened and she knew better then to disturb him. "I'll take his body. You get back to Mombi."_

_Wanting desperately to kiss him, the witch agreed and with a flash, she was back at the castle, where the witches had Mombi bound with the same magical-blocking chains the healers at the palace had worn._

_Ria glanced up at her fearless leader, eyeing Mombi with a pained expression. "I know you don't want to, Locasta—"_

"_It needs to happen. It's for the greater good of all who live in this land that she serves the same fate as Jinjur. Destruction of so many and so much makes it impossible for me to wait for a trial. We know the sentence."_

_Squinting her eyes shut, Locasta knelt before Mombi, whispering an apology as best she could. "I'm sorry, Mombi."_

_With that, the woman's life was taken from her, the only ability left was to breathe._

"How have you endured all this?" Glinda questioned, dabbing at her eyes and reaching forward to pull the old witch into a hug.

Locasta melted into it. It'd been a long time since she shared the darker horrors of her life with another. "Darling, hope is a very powerful anthem. If you sing it loud enough, you'll eventually start to believe it."

China Girl fidgeted in her new spot on Oz's lap, daring to question. "So then you built this castle and became the princess?"

"Not exactly," Locasta laughed, pulling away from Glinda and standing to stretch. "I was never a princess. My poise and grace was far too gone for such a title," She said with a wink at Glinda. "However, I did allow the witches council and the new leaders of the White City to convince me that someone aught to be the overseer of reconstruction and rehabilitation of the Gillikin City. I spent most of my time traveling from the White City to here, with Faelan always at my side. After we buried both of his parents, he became a bit of a brooding mess and I didn't like to leave him alone. I always made sure that he had a reasonable task to do wherever we were to keep him busy.

"Eventually, I had convinced King Pastoria that the emerald that had alerted our hearts to the goodness of the people in the city should serve as a greater symbol. With this, the people of the former White City decided that the Emerald City was a far more appropriate name. They changed just about everything from a blinding white to a dazzling green. When Eavana had created the spell we used for the diamond itself, she had to think of something that made her most happy in the world, as the spell required great emotional concentration. She'd thought of Faelan, and his beautiful colored eyes...so the colors you see in the Emerald City, are really a representation of my first husband."

Glinda couldn't help the squeal that came out of her at this. "My father always told me that the color of the city was richer than gold."

Locasta gave a chuckle. "Indeed it is. Once we got things calmed down a bit and Faelan was back to his relatively happy self, we started working on this castle. It's original purpose was to replace the one that had stood before it and to be a gathering place for meetings and Gillikin Country events. But, during the construction, we were asked to create some sort of plans for what we'd like our chambers to look like. I had no intentions of living in a palace, but...here we are, five hundred years later.

"We started to spend most of our time here, letting people come to us rather then traveling all of Oz for meetings. It was about ten years after the battle for the White City that Fae and I finally had our chance to really settle down and focus on the family we were hoping to start," At this, Locasta felt herself cracking from the horrible memories. "But...We were ambushed one night and...Everything went wrong."

_Faelan wandered around the hallway to the room he'd been spending far too much time in. Sensing his wife's presence already there, he smirked. He wasn't the only one._

_He paused with his hand on the doorknob as he heard the sound of Locasta singing softly. He knew the moment he entered she'd stop, so he rested his forehead against the frame, hoping she'd continue._

_However the melody was gone and the door opened on it's own, leaving him standing sheepishly in the empty walkway. Locasta grinned from the rocking chair she was in near a window, biting her lip and drawing him in with a curl of her finger. Faelan avoided slamming the door behind him, then wandered towards his wife, with her hand curled under her slowly-swelling belly. He stood near her, taking her other palm and rubbing his thumb over it. "How many days?" He questioned, kissing her knuckles._

"_One less from when you asked me last night," She stated lovingly, resting her eyes. "Everything run smoothly during town hall?"_

"_Of course, the only thing missing was the lovely leader of the land," He joked. "They don't mind having me fill in."_

_Locasta hummed the tune to the same song she'd been singing. "Have you given any more thought to her name?"_

_Faelan squatted down in front of his wife, giving a shrug. "I still like Clare."_

"_Hm..." Locasta kept her eyes shut as she rocked. "For our bright-eyed daughter. Perhaps, love."_

_He opened his mouth to speak again, but in that moment, the door to their newly-created nursery burst open and a woman dressed in white shocked them both by sending two knives flying through the air. In the less than split-second that he had to make a decision, Faelan stood to cover his wife and unborn child, letting the daggers dig into him rather them. Locasta screamed, sending a shock of magic around him, only to find herself utterly exhausted from the attack. Pregnancy had not been kind to her magical abilities thus far, and it seemed this wretched bandit would be the ultimate test of that. Faelan fell forward, and Locasta knew that she had to do something about the cloaked individual before her before she took more then she already had._

_Creating a shield around herself and the form of her husband, she went to work, shaking her head as the woman tried to force her way through the bubble of protection. "No, no!" Locasta shrieked, shaking Faelan as she summoned as much magic as she could, focusing on healing her husband, who refused to move at her demands. "Don't you dare die on me, you bastard!" She cried, pouring every ounce of energy she had into him, "Faelan! Fae!"_

Locasta had stood up halfway through her storytelling and moved to the window in Glinda's chambers. Not a peep was heard from her audience, who remained still and breathless on the younger witch's bed. "He died that night. Protecting me, and our unborn daughter. I eventually passed out from magical and emotional exhaustion. Our soul-bond was broken, and it immediately took effect on my overall health. The Gillikin guards eventually caught the bitch who'd murdered him, and she was sentenced to the same fate as Jinjur and Mombi. But that hardly mattered to me...I was completely numb. I thought...there was still a little hope. I would still have a part of Faelan in our daughter but..."

She shook her head. "Clare wasn't breathing when she was born. She was gone, too." Locasta turned to Glinda, who rose from the bed and pulled her mentor close, letting the old woman shed a few tears into her gown. "I buried her with her father and grandparents...And...Hardly six weeks later, Pastira's wife was attacked. And then...I was forced to marry him, as they hadn't been able to have an heir yet, for the throne. I didn't want to, but, I knew that I had to...yet, the night before the wedding, I realized I couldn't have anyone else's baby but Faelan's. So, I manipulated my magic and...sterilized myself. Pastoria and I never had a child, obviously, so...his brother took over as King. Your great-grandfather, love. I stayed around in the Emerald City, not ready to return to the Gillikin land. Things never seemed quite right in the City. Nothing was as it should have been. We were missing the truly kind and noble leader I had hoped we would have for this land.

"But then," Locasta forced a smile and cupped Glinda's cheeks in her palms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Your father took the throne. And within his first day, I knew he was exactly the king I'd always wanted for Oz. Your mother was a beautiful witch, and the two of them were the greatest gift for all of us. After spending some time training them up, I felt comfortable to finally return here."

Glinda tilted her head, bringing a hand up to run along Locasta's upper arm. "But my father told me you were there for my birth?"

"Oh, I was, darling. I stayed with your mother for quite some time. She was a nervous wreck over you, and if I hadn't been there to assure her you'd breathe through the night, I don't think she'd have ever slept." Her grin faded a bit and she shook her head. "But, just like every good thing, her life too, came to a tragic end. My magic wasn't what it once was, but hers was a near match to it. Despite my and your father's protests, she went South where a new threat from the Winkie Country had taken place. Your father went with her, and they left me in charge of you. You were just four months old, but...you were just as charming as you are now, if not a little bit whinier and more demanding," She laughed.

"But...The Winkie battle came to the Emerald City and I knew that something had gone wrong. I had to intercept the threat before they came to you. I had this...horrid feeling that you were their target...and so I took your little fingers," She said with a watery sigh, lifting Glinda's left hand up, "And I gave you a little kiss, with a spell for protection. Which you can see, here," She rubbed the silver ring that had always been present around Glinda's index finger. "And it thankfully worked. I was able to take down the main threat, and your father returned for the rest. Unfortunately, your mother hadn't made it back."

Glinda fell forward into another long, much-needed hug. "You protected me...all these years, all the invasions and wickedness that wrought our land...I was spared from it all, because of your kiss of protection?"

Locasta nodded, unable to speak any longer. Rather, she placed a hand on the back of Glinda's head then a kiss to the top of it.

"Thank you," The younger witch managed to say through the sobs that had started to consume her. "For everything."

Oz lifted China Girl and gave a nod to Finley, indicating he felt it best if the two women had some time alone. When they were in the hallway, China Girl pulled herself onto Oz's shoulder, hugging him tightly. "Do you think there's anything we can do to make either of them feel better?" She asked, giving him bright-blue eyes of sympathy for the two witches.

The Wizard shrugged. "I think that all we can give them is time."

* * *

Glinda closed her eyes, wishing for the ability to safely turn back time and live life in a far more grateful state then she had. Oz rubbed her back in an attempt to provide her some comfort as she spewed these thoughts verbally. Locasta had excused herself from their company shortly after dinner, and all the younger witch could do was wallow in guilt for her thirty-one years of tension with the older.

"I just don't know why she couldn't have told me when I was younger. I might have understood!"

Oz sighed and shook his head. "I think you need to get your mind off it. Come on. Let's go to the library and do something. Anything. Do you happen to know where there might be playing cards?"

Glinda raised an eyebrow. "Playing...cards?"

He smirked, then took her hand. "I think I have some in my bag. Come on, we'll get China and Finley to join us."

"Locasta told me to stay here," She groaned, not up for tricks or games.

"Aw, come on. You can't sit here and be sad. Not good for your magical control."

The witch crossed her arms. "You can't use my own powers against me. Besides, I'm terrible at games. I always lose."

"Mmm," Oz raised a finger to chastise her. "Sounds a bit more like you're a sore loser to me."

"I am not," Glinda defended herself.

"Then prove it. Come on. I'll bet Finley has got a winning streak in him that he can't wait to share with us."

He tugged her up and Glinda followed him, pouting as they went to his chambers to retrieve his brown bag of carnival magic supplies. Sure enough, a deck of cards was buried at the bottom.

Glinda shuffled through the heavy-weighted paper playing materials. "What are these characters on them?"

"Well, there's a king, a queen, and a jack. It's a hierarchy from an old country. The King represents thirteen, the queen twelve, and the jack eleven. The 'A' stands for ace, which is high or low depending on what game you're playing. Then there's the four suits. Diamond, spade, clover, and hearts. Four of each number, one per suit. We'll have fun, I promise."

The blonde mumbled something but trailed behind, still fumbling through the cards as they found China Girl and Finley in the gardens and led them to the study.

"Alright," Oz said as they gathered around a coffee table, Glinda having magicked a chair into China Girl's height. "We're going to play a game from a far off land of Egypt. The rats have screwed us and our crop for the eleventh year in a row," He began, telling a dramatic tale, earning attention from China Girl but a hefty eye-roll from Glinda. "Now. We're taking back our city!"

After explaining the rules to the game, he dispersed the cards to each player. Realizing they were far too large for China Girl's hands to hold, Glinda enchanted them to be the right size for her tiny fingers, but to grow back to normal once they were played. Cards were tossed, hands were slapped against the table and frantic giggles were shared by all as they spent over two hours playing various renditions of games Oz had learned during his time traveling across Kansas and beyond.

"You all are still playing?" Locasta questioned as she came into the study, hands on her hips. "You've been at it for hours."

"We're having so much fun! You should play with us!" China Girl pipped, slapping down two seeds that Glinda had taken from a tin in the kitchen to use in leu of betting chips. "I raise you two!" She said to Oz, a sassy smile across her porcelain cheeks.

Locasta took a seat behind them, observing their play and interactions. With a hand over her heart, she looked down at Glinda, laughing as she pulled a handful of seeds towards herself and giving Oz a teasing look. He gripped her waist, pulling her to him in a shriek before pressing his lips to hers and letting go to deal again.

From the day she was born, Locasta had looked at the witch with a hope that despite a barrage of challenges she'd no-doubt face, she'd be happy. As she knew the end for herself was coming, she felt assured that this was the case.

* * *

When they finally went off to their separate rooms, Locasta sneaked into Glinda's room, where the blonde was just pulling her blankets down to climb back into bed. "Oh," She gasped, placing her palm against her chest. "You frightened me."

Locasta motioned for her to lay down and reached for a hand once the young woman was snuggled under her covers. "Let's see you draw some energy?" Glinda concentrated, pulling the magic to her palm, where it glowed bright as it had a week ago when she learned the concept. "Perfect," Locasta nodded. "Good as new."

Glinda smiled weakly, fiddling with the sheets between her fingertips as she searched for the right words to express herself. "I just want to thank you, again. For sharing your story with me."

The older witch gave a heavy sigh and sat on the mattress next to Glinda, taking her nervous hand. "You're welcome. I hope you were able to gain something from it."

"I wish you'd have told me sooner. I mean, I knew a bit about the White City from academy, but I never realized what a horrific place it was. The deeds from them almost make Evanora and Theodora seem tame."

"Oh, they're not tame, by any means," Locasta assured her, her tone dark for the moment. "It is important for you to know what others fought for, the freedoms that you have are because of many great sacrifices."

"I also wanted to apologize for treating you like I did for so long. I thought that you were only after my magic. That you wanted to train me up for your own purposes. I didn't know that you really cared about me."

Locasta closed her eyes, flashing back to infant Glinda, squirming in a white bundle, dark eyes unfocused. She opened them once more to the present-day, where the baby had grown into a gorgeous sight, filled with charm, talent, and compassion. "Of course I did, love. And I do, and even if I'm not here physically, I'll always be here in spirit to care for you."

Glinda felt tears building up and she leaned forward for another hug from the witch. "I love you," She whispered, nesting her face into the woman's shoulder.

"Oh, and I you, dear."

* * *

Theodora tipped her hat up with her thumb and forefinger as she made her way down the halls of the Northern castle, a place she hadn't been since her early teens. Locasta had tried to teach her magic, but the old cooky woman was no match for Theodora's skill.

Sauntering down the corridor with her now-trademark smirk of trouble, Theodora listened closely for the sounds of anyone who might be stirring in the late hours of night. Sensing Glinda's magical energy radiating from one of the rooms, she materialized into it, quite surprised to find the queen alone in bed.

She'd had enough of Evanora's attitude and taunts that she wasn't skilled enough or ready to take down Locasta. That was fine. She'd take the student instead of the teacher.

With a hand poised for action, Theodora was ready to complete the task she and her sister had failed during the end of their reign over the Emerald City.

Prepared to let the magic circle towards Glinda, Theodora suddenly felt her power extinguish and a seal formed over her mouth as she turned to find who'd dare to stop her in the middle of a spell. Evanora stepped one silent foot in front of the other, her eyes dark as she gripped her younger sister's arm and caused both of them to disappear.

Dropping Theodora and landing gracefully into a study of sorts on another floor of the castle, Evanora ensured they were alone before shouting, "You're the boldest idiot who's ever walked this land, now I'm sure of it! You great _oaf_! Were you listening at all this afternoon to that horrid woman's story?"

The green witch stood, her hands balled into fists as she got into her sister's face. "I heard every last word! That's why I had to do this! Glinda doesn't deserve anything good that's coming to her! She deserves death!"

Evanora grabbed Theodora's wrists as she ranted, pulling her close and hissing. "If you were listening, then you'd have heard that Glinda has Locasta's protection kiss. There's nothing you can do to kill the witch until you've destroyed the seal. And there is only one way to destroy the seal. Our plan was to take down Locasta. That will solve all the problems we have. Removing Glinda will be easy, but we have to get rid of her greatest resource!"

"No!" Theodora ripped herself away, pacing the room in angry circles. "Glinda took everything from me! She must be the first to die!"

"You're impossible!" Evanora shouted, directing a bolt of lightning at Theodora, who fell backwards. Standing in a rage, she made a move to attack her big sister, but it was easily deflected. "You knew the great and powerful cheap trick for all of six hours before he left in pursuit of gold! You made this into such a pathetic display of misplaced feelings—"

Theodora cut her off sharply with a bony finger pointed in Evanora's face. "You're forgetting who's given you your power back! I'll take it all away! Don't test me!"

Evanora whipped a spell in her sister's direction, sealing her mouth silent once more.

"Silence is golden sister...though given your current state, I shouldn't assume you know anything about anything but raw jealousy." She lifted an eyebrow in conjunction with a curl of her lip, and she crossed one foot in front of the other, gripping her sister's hand. "You're not to kill anyone but the old hag. If you so much as think about touching Glinda, I'll rip that pointed nose right off your face."

Letting go and removing the seal, Evanora spun on her heal. "Find her. Bring her here. Don't disappoint me."

"No need to go waking everyone up," A voice chimed from the doorway, earning the attention of both witches.

"You great fool!" Theodora cackled as Locasta gracefully stepped into the study, "You're walking into your own—"

Evanora stood in front of her disfigured sister with a heavy sigh, effectively ending her rant. "Oh, Locasta. You're so...disheveled."

Locasta chuckled, lifting Eavana's wand from inside her sleeve. "Darling, at least I look halfway-decent for my age. You on the other hand," She twirled a puff of magic, removing Evanora's ruby slippers. "Look like someone twice as old as me!"

Automatically crippled, Evanora reached forward, earning her sister's sympathy, despite their earlier argument. Theodora magicked the shoes back on, causing the witch to gasp. "How dare you—"

Locasta pressed a hand to her chest, batting her eyelashes. "How dare I? You barge into my home at this hour, when I've got guests and attempt to confront me? What is it you need, dears, a spell, a potion? What have you to offer me in return—"

Theodora shrieked wildly, completely unstable as she tossed a ball of fire in Locasta's direction. "We don't want anything from you but your life! You dried up, useless hag!"

Locasta dodged the fire just barely, singing the ends of her hair. "That's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

Evanora, still reeling from the malicious attempt on her youth, breathed deeply before insisting to her sister, "Just do it already, Theodora! You're the one so insistent on ending this all tonight!"

The former savior of the land of Oz gave a long sigh. "Tonight? Here I thought I had another week or so with my lovely girl and her charming Wizard." Locasta gave a small smile, bowing her head. "Suppose my magic is not what it used to be. Can't even properly read the future anymore." Theodora yelled again, blasting another hole in the wall with her uncontrolled magic. Locasta tilted her head at the sight. "It's too bad you never gained control over that terrible temper and let your sister manipulate you. You would have been such a wonderful, beautiful witch."

The green one nearly hissed as she stepped closer. "There is nothing wonderful or beautiful left in me! Glinda took that all away from me! Now I'm about to take you away from her!" With a howl, she tossed a killing spell in the old witch's direction, successfully hitting her. Locasta fell to the ground, and Theodora gave a cheer.

Evanora found her strength and in four long strides, she was at her former mentor's side. She rolled her eyes, glaring at Theodora. "Not dead yet, sister. Honestly, you can't even kill a woman properly? Your talents truly are wasted."

* * *

Glinda woke with a start, breathing deeply as she sensed something seriously amiss in the castle. In her tired and still-recovering state, she was unable to tell what it was, but she got up and bolted out of her chambers, hair a mess and clothes rumpled as she tore down the hallway and up a flight of stairs, down another long corridor towards the air of chaos.

"Damn," Evanora hissed from the library, feeling the soon-to-be-last good witch's presence on the way. "That rotten girl." Giving a firm look at Theodora, who prepared another strike, she shook her head. "I'll finish this."

Swirling a bolt of lightning in her hand, she looked down at Locasta, her baby blue eyes wide with pain and body paralyzed. "I'll allow this to be a slow, but excruciating death. After all, Glinda never did get a goodbye with her daddy. At least she'll be able to see the light drain from your eyes, burning the sight into her memory forever." Slamming the magic-filled palm down on Locasta's chest causing a loud gasp of pain, Evanora gave a full laugh, her head tossed back before snapping her fingers and disappearing.

Theodora cackled, unable to control herself as she wobbled towards the dying witch. She was prepared to make a bold monologue when the doors to the study burst open and Glinda stood wide-eyed and bleary at the sight before her. The green witch hurled a ball of fire at the blonde, earning her shriek as she hadn't had time to dodge the flame that had now latched itself to her upper left arm. With another wicked laugh of victory, Theodora was gone in a flash and Glinda fell to her knees next to Locasta, extinguishing the fire against her sleeve and crying in pain, glancing down at Locasta, unsure what to do first.

"What have they done?" She shouted, unable to stop the flood of tears that immediately began to cascade down her face. Screeching, she shook Locasta, who's eyes were starting to roll back, ignoring the searing sensation of her own flesh. "No, No! Locasta, no! Not yet! Hold on, I-I just need a...grip...on myself," Glinda breathed deeply, trying to gather her emotions as she summoned raw energy into her palm, letting it swirl around before she placed it over the older witch. Forcing as much as she could into the spell, Glinda shook her head when she realized it wasn't taking. "Locasta!" She shrieked, needing guidance as to how to properly heal the woman's wounds.

"D-Darling," Locasta managed to speak, insisting that her hand move to cover Glinda's, despite the effort it took to do so. "Please, no...I'm so sorry," She took a gasp of air as the younger witch tilted her head and let her tears drip onto Locasta's face. "You need...to heal yourself, love." Glinda shook her head, refusing to spend her magical energy on herself when the woman in front of her was in a greater need of it. "I thought...I had one more week...with you." She struggled to breathe and Glinda couldn't stand it as she readied her magic once more. "No, no."

"Please, let me heal you! Please! I'm not ready to lose you yet!" She forced the light into Locasta's belly, shrieking when it refused to accept her healing power.

Locasta gave a weak shake of her head as Glinda cried loudly. "Love, I told you...when it's someone's time to go...they must go."

"But I-I couldn't save my father, I can't, I can't—" She was nearly hyperventilating as Locasta, in her dying moments, attempted to provide the girl she'd come to see as her daughter some comfort.

"You don't need to save me to prove that you are an amazing witch. You're every bit as wise and talented as you are beautiful and loving. Please, keep working hard...Your parents would be as proud of you that I am." She sighed, her eyelids fluttering. "I've loved working with you—"

"Please," Glinda whispered as she choked on her sobs, forcing palm after palm of healing power into the woman's energy, gasping back tears as each one failed. "Please! Stop talking, you're not going to die! You're not, you're not!"

"—And I want you to make sure you work on your relationship with Oscar, darling, he's...Perfect for you and you're going to be very happy together..." Locasta reached up for both of Glinda's hands, earning the witch's complete attention and watery eyes. "My sweet girl, you are meant to be with him. I have seen your future and it is wonderful, if you...can just...trust yourself...and him."

Glinda heaved a deep breath as she choked out, "Locasta! Please, it can't be your time! No, no, no—"

The old witch closed her eyes, losing the bit of energy she had left. "I love you, Glinda," Locasta managed to utter her final words.

With a struggled gasp, Locasta's life left her body as her heart stopped beating and Glinda mourned a cry louder than she had even for her own father as she clutched the woman's body, both fists against the material that covered her chest. Her face fell forward into Locasta's neck, as she bellowed from the deepest parts of her that had held every ounce of sadness she'd carried since the great King had died four years previous.

It was hardly thirty seconds after the woman's passing that Oz bolted into the room, eyes wide as he caught the sight of what had occurred before him. He fell down beside Glinda, pressing a hand to her side. "What happened?" He whispered as calmly as he could, not trying to startle her as his eyes darted from the red, angry flesh on her arm to the dead woman on the floor.

The blonde shoved him off with one hand, keeping the other gripped tightly around Locasta's cloak. Confused and crippled with a fear that something similar might happen to the woman he was falling in love with, Oz made a move to take her away from the body, but was met with a powerful blast of wind that knocked him flat on his back.

"Glinda!" He shouted as he shook off the shock and stood up, rubbing his spine. "What the hell happened?"

She couldn't manage to speak as she rocked back and forth, still carrying on loudly, at a complete loss for words or action as she threw her head back and wailed, bringing one hand to cover her face before glancing at the dead woman below her.

"What is happening? Was it an ambush? Who did this? Are there more coming? Glinda, you need to give me something to go on so I know how to keep us safe!"

Not acknowledging him but continuing to rock, Glinda wrapped her arms around her legs and hid her face between her knees. Completely baffled and concerned, Oz asked once more for an answer before sliding his arms around her back and lifting her up in attempt to move her away from the scene. In an adrenaline-fueled fit of rage, Glinda flailed her body while screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking at his legs and punching blindly behind her at his arms. At the attack, Oz dropped her to her feet, and whirled her around, hands on her shoulders, ignoring the crazed actions she'd just dolled out and meeting her eyes. "Glinda, if you are in danger, we have to—"

"I'm not!" She finally spat in a shrill yell. "They were after her!"

She brought both her arms up to chop his off, ignoring the heat of her left one, before smacking his chest with a sob and crumbling back to the floor, hovering over Locasta.

"Who is they? Glinda, come on," Oz dared beg of her as he moved closer once more, keeping his hands off this time but attempting to get some information out of her as he continued to grow concerned. His eyes widened when a bit of realization washed over him and he asked, "Evanora and—"

"Yes!" Glinda shouted before gasping for air as she tried to calm herself down enough to make a logical retelling of what she'd seen to the Wizard. "I-I-They, I-They—"

"Okay, okay...stop," Oz bit his lip, at a total loss as how he could help. "You're not in danger?"

She shook her head to confirm the witches had only been after Locasta. "They-they just...wanted...her...and...they—"

"Okay, okay, can you heal yourself?" Oz gestured to her burn that almost looked like it was fizzing against the mangled skin. Glinda bowed her head and he realized it was a dumb question — of course she couldn't, not in her emotional state. "Never mind...can we go bandage it up? It looks like it's probably going to need a professional later on." She shook her messy blonde curls, indicating she wasn't ready to move at all, even to take care of herself.

Oz sighed and made a motion with his arms, opening up one as he sat next to her once more. Glinda closed her eyes, falling forward while she lamented noisily, now into his chest. Though she couldn't even begin to comprehend or accept what had just passed, the sound of his heart, steady and beating, was almost enough to bring her down from the hysteria that was induced just minutes before.


	8. Chapter 8

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Eight  
**_We shall sometime come to someplace._

Oz held Glinda in the same spot for well over an hour as she continued to shake and sob, occasionally letting out a loud yell or shriek and hitting his upper arm in frustration. He let her carry on for as long as he felt she could, but after such a long time had passed, he finally pressed a warm kiss to her forehead and sat her up, holding her shoulders to keep her still. "Glinda, we need to do something, alright? You need your burn cleaned and we can't just...leave her here."

Glinda's face was blotchy, eyes bloodshot red and barely able to stay open from being so swollen with tears. The pounding in her head was unbearable and the Wizard expected her to be able to think even close to clearly after what had passed?

"Go away," She blubbered, shoving him with as much energy as she could summon before twisting back to the body of her mentor.

After rocking back for a split second at the push, Oz stood, shaking his head. "I completely understand just how upset you are. But we can need to find a place to put her. Is there some sort of mortician service in the Gillikin Land? I'll go find somebody—"

"She's a witch," Glinda answered dryly, turning to glare at him through her glassy eyes. "She needs to be burned to protect her magical secrets."

Cringing at her tone, as if he'd have somehow been informed of such procedures, Oz sighed. "Well, maybe we can move the body to a place where we could do that, then. Sitting here is only going to continue to make you—"

"Stop!" Glinda shouted, bringing her hands to her face in fists. "Please, go away, Oscar! You may know what I'm feeling, but you're not feeling it right now!"

Pausing to consider her statement, Oz supposed she was right. He could identify with mourning the loss of a loved one that he wished he'd have spent more time with, but he wasn't feeling exactly what her heart was in the moment.

"I will," He reasoned, squatting back down in front of her and tilting her chin up before she could swat his fingers away. "I will go away, I promise. I'll leave you alone for a bit, but I'm not leaving you alone in here with her. We need to figure out what to do with her first."

"I already told you, she needs to be burned," Glinda whined, throwing her head back. Why couldn't he just leave? "Please, I'm not ready, Oscar. I don't want to do it now."

"You don't have to," He agreed, putting a hand on her shoulder only to have it shrugged off. "How about we cover her up, leave her a little dignity, okay? Then maybe you can seal this room off with magic so only you can get in."

Taking a few moments to think on this, Glinda felt her body wobbling back and forth in attempt to calm itself. Finally, she closed her eyes and shrugged. "If that's what you want," She sighed, "Fine."

"Okay," Oz nodded, thankful she'd seen a bit of sense in the situation. He turned to the front of the room, spotting a blanket draped over one of the sofas in the study. He brought it towards Locasta's body, laying it out across her frame as carefully as he could.

At the sight of the action, Glinda began blubbering once more, covering her mouth and screeching loudly into her hand. Oz swallowed hard and reached down, scooping Glinda into a cradle-hold, her injured arm away from his body. She fought him at first, but eventually gave in. He carried her out the door and shifted her downwards. "Seal it up," He whispered. The witch lifted a shaking hand up and a glint of light came from her hand, preventing anyone but herself to enter the room.

Glinda sniffed as Oz took her down the stairs, to her chambers. She scrambled out of his arms and to her bed, stuffing herself into the blankets and glaring at him. "Please, leave me."

With a single nod, Oz retreated and moved immediately to China Girl's room, his eyes widening in panic as he went to turn the knob and found the room locked. "China! It's Oz, open the door!"

His heart was racing as he pressed his ear to the wood, hearing the sounds of fluttering before a click and the door opened just a crack, revealing Finley's face. "It is you," He sighed, letting the Wizard in. "I heard the sounds of something that sounded downright terrible and I couldn't find you or Glinda, so I came here to keep her from getting hurt or involved," He nodded back to the bed, where China Girl was wide awake and clearly worried. Oz nodded, pulling the winged monkey to him for a heavy hug. "What's happened?"

"Let's sit down," He nodded to the bed. China Girl pushed herself up and to his lap, where he placed a hand on her back before swallowing hard. "I don't know the full details but...Theodora and Evanora broke in...they...they, um...they killed Locasta," He managed, feeling his chest tighten. "Glinda found her and...well, she wants to be alone right now."

China Girl blinked hard, shaking her head. "K-killed?"

Feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek, Oz nodded and brought her up to his shoulder where she started sniffling. Finley too, couldn't hold himself together as he leaned against Oz with a dreadful lack of hope in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Oz woke up at the earliest signs of morning with China Girl on his chest and Finley curled up against his side. Gently, he stood, sliding the sleeping doll onto a pillow before making haste to see if Glinda was still in her room.

He opened the door, cringing as it squeaked, though he noted it did not earn her attention. She was still laying in the same position he'd left her in, eyes glassy and nose red. "Morning," Oz mumbled, taking a seat next to her, earning her pupils to shift towards him for a moment before back into an unfocused, empty space. "Can I get you anything? Something to eat, drink?"

Giving one firm shake of her head, Glinda turned a bit on her side. "How's your burn? I can get you a cool rag...?" He received no response.

Oz bit his lip, sighing loud enough for her to hear and sense his slight aggravation. "Do you want me to have China Girl sent back to the Emerald City with Finley or would you like them around while we deal with all this?"

"Whatever you think is best," She responded dryly.

He placed a hand on her side, rubbed twice then stood. "I'll get them all packed up then." Walking out with a sulk, he made his way down to the kitchens to make himself breakfast for what was sure to be a long day.

About three hours later, Oz had China Girl ready to go, though he didn't want her to leave for emotional reasons. She'd already lost so much since he'd been in their land. Now she'd never see the grandmotherly figure she'd gained again.

She was snuggled into his shoulder while he stroked two fingers up and down her porcelain spine. "Do I really have to leave?"

"For now," He nodded, taking a breath. "I hope we won't be too far behind you. Maybe a few days. I'll be back in a week at the most, alright?"

China Girl silently agreed, rubbing a hand along his collar. "Can we go to China Town when you're back? So maybe I can get some of my things?"

"Of course," Oz whispered, suddenly feeling choked up. "We're going to come up with something really special to help you and everyone in Oz remember China Town. I promise, we will."

With the hopeless feeling still lingering in the pit of his stomach, he set her down, next to where Finley was holding their bag of items they'd brought with them. "Tell Glinda that we love her, okay?"

Oz smiled at the girl before sending them on their way. As the castle doors swung shut, he paused with a palm on the door, not sure what he should do with himself. Glinda obviously wanted to not be bothered, but it wasn't in his nature to leave her alone. He glanced at a working clock on the wall. It was ten in the morning. He'd give her until noon to mourn by herself. Then, he'd insist on doing all he could to see to it that they at least started the process of cremating their beloved witch — whatever that might entail.

* * *

Glinda groaned when she heard the door to her bedroom chambers open around noon that day. What was so difficult to comprehend about a simple request to be left alone?

"Oz, please—"

He set a tray down on her nightstand, noting the use of his nickname, and gently took her face into his hands, kissing her forehead. "You want to be by yourself, I know. But I'm not going to let that happen right now. You need to eat and drink something and I'm going to bandage up your burn since you don't seem interested in healing it yourself."

She glared up at him, swatting his hands off of her before crossing her burned arm over her right one, wincing at the sight of the injury. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, attempting to conjure some healing energy.

Oz watched as she struggled for a minute or two before sighing her name and earning a loud sob as tears squeezed through her closed eyelids. "It's okay," He said softly, sitting next to her on the bed and turning his expression more sympathetic than it had been when he walked in. "Let me bandage it up for know to keep it clean, and when you're...less emotional, you can heal it."

She sat up fully, cringing at the pounding sensation in her head. Oz reached for a salve and bandage that he'd brought on the tray, then a pair of scissors as he cut the fabric of her nightgown at the top of her shoulder and around, earning a raised eyebrow. He was concentrated, cutting it then up from her wrist to the slit in the shoulder. Snipping all the fabric above and below the six-inch long, red, angry spot, he set the scissors down and handed her a rock in the hand of of her uninjured arm. She was about to ask, but he explained, "It's going to hurt like hell when I pull the fabric off the burn. Squeeze that rock as hard as you can."

Glinda felt her eyes watering again as her heart raced, but she did as she was told, yelling as he peeled the singed white cotton off of her angry skin. "Alright," He let out a breath of air as Glinda attempted to regulate her own oxygen intake. Oz lifted a small spreader and scooped a bit of the salve onto it before applying it to the affected area, earning another cry from Glinda. When the whole place was covered, he reached for a bandage, taking time and care to wrap it around the burn. "My first few years of learning magic meant lots of mishaps with explosives. I had quite a reputation for hurting myself...I got much better at it, of course, but...there was a time when I didn't have eyebrows."

Glinda almost laughed as he tied the white, sterile wrap around her, pressing a kiss to the knot of it before placing his hands in his lap, tilting his head in her direction. "Can I convince you to eat?"

She shrugged her good shoulder, feeling silly with one sleeve on and the other torn away. He passed her a bowl of her favorite fruit and a fork before standing and taking his makeshift medical supplies to put away when he left. As he reached the door, he heard a soft, "Wait."

Oz turned, eyes full of wonder as he glanced at his beautiful witch, who was so hopeless looking it near-broke his heart. "Oscar maybe...You could stay. If you wanted, of course," Glinda suggested, bashful as she couldn't meet his face.

He smirked and set his handful of items down, making his way back to her. She held her bowl in one hand and patted the other side of her bed, which he gladly crawled into.

* * *

Glinda jammed her eyes shut as she shook violently in front of the door that contained Locasta's body. Oz pressed his hands to the top of her shoulders, squeezing in attempt to relax her. She was sick to her stomach as her lower lip started to tremble at the idea of seeing the dead woman again, then having to take care of it.

"I can't," She whispered, tearing out of his hold and moving swiftly down the hall.

Oz ran faster though, and was in front of her before she could get to the staircase. "Glinda, you _can_." He grabbed her waist, pulling it so her body was flush to his in a long, tight hug. "I know it's going to be awful, but only for a few minutes. Then it will be forever over. We can pick up the pieces and put them together back in the Emerald City."

As the day had progressed and night had fallen, Oz was itchy to get back to their home — though he'd never spent more than two days at a time in the city, he was ready to get settled. With Locasta gone and China Girl and Finley shipped out, he saw little reason to stay in Gillikin Country much longer.

"But the pieces aren't all going to fit," Glinda muttered against his chest, which he felt dampening with fresh tears. "I've never lived in the Emerald City without my father there, or Locasta just two days' journey. Even though she wasn't close to me, she was around often enough for her to be like family."

Oz rested his chin on top of her matted, blonde curls before giving a tiny shrug. "But you've also never lived in the Emerald City with me or China or Finley. We're like family, too." He kissed her hairline and pulled back a bit, giving her a little smile.

She sniffed and brought the fingertips of her index fingers to wipe her eyes. "Okay. Let's..." She sighed, "Do this."

He took her hand and led her back to the library, where she took deep breaths before bringing a hand up, composed enough to let magic work through the door and unseal the walkway. Oz turned the knob and the door opened with a creak, revealing the still-covered body.

He wanted it gone for many reasons, one of them being to avoid the stench that was just starting to linger in the room. It wasn't overwhelming as he assumed it would be, and with a tug to Glinda's hand, he brought her in. She gave a great sob, but kept up her physical strength to be able to handle what they needed to do.

Removing the sheet, Glinda concentrated hard and touched both Locasta's arm and Oz's, before giving a little yell and disappearing into the air.

Oz felt as if his very molecules were being torn a part as he was whisked from the castle to the moratorium in the middle of the Gillikin City, where a cremator was waiting their arrival. He'd met them earlier in the day, explaining the situation.

They landed gracefully enough inside of the destined building, where Glinda immediately stepped away from the body of her fallen mentor and made her way outside for a breath of fresh air. Oz turned to the Gillikin gentlemen before them, cringing.

"Is there anything on her person you would like saved?

"I-I don't know," He stuttered. "Let me just get her...so she can say good-bye."

He walked outside where Glinda had one hand holding the side of the building while the other covered her mouth as she cried loudly into it. Oz gave her a moment, having realized the best way to approach an upset Glinda was to wait for her to approach him. Indeed, after a few minutes of uncontrolled crying she turned to him, her chin quivering. "I'd like to say good-bye," She stated through her tears and Oz nodded, taking her hand.

They were led back to a room where Locasta's body had been moved. The man inside bowed at the sight of his queen and gave her and Oz time to say goodbye to the woman they'd come to care so deeply about.

Glinda first reached her hands forward to unbuckle the cloak that was closed over Locasta's chest, removing it and folding it gently before taking off a long, golden amulet and the golden band around her middle finger that she'd worn since her and Faelan's wedding day. She placed the items in Oz's hands before closing her eyes and kneeling on the ground in front of Locasta. "If you can hear me," She started, through a trembling voice, "Please, know how much I appreciate everything you did for me." She bit her lip, staying strong through the end. "Tell my father that I miss him, if you see him."

She wanted to say more, but she didn't have the strength. Instead, she turned to Oz, begging to leave with her eyes. He didn't need her to say anything as he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her out the front of the building.

"I-I don't...I don't have the energy to fly us back," Glinda muttered, cheeks reddening slightly from embarrassment as she was unable to meet his eyes. "Do you want to walk or take a carriage?"

Oz moved his hand from her back to intertwine his fingers with hers. "I'd like to walk...we never did get to leave the castle together. It might be nice."

Glinda looked up with a little glimpse in her eye he hadn't seen since the day before. "Yeah. Let's walk."

They were quiet as they strolled through the city which was shutting down for the night. Shop keepers locking up, stands being rolled away for the evening. Children were still playing in the dim light that was left, but with parents nearby, ready to call them in. Oz stole a glance at Glinda, her face puffy and eyelids lined red. She seemed to have a slight sense of peace beginning to take over her, though, as she clutched Locasta's cloak tight against her chest. He fumbled with the ring and necklace in his pocket, pressing his lips together.

"What about that box? The one she had you seal?"

The witch paused, her mouth opening and closing before she held the fabric even closer and shook her head. "I don't know that I'm emotionally well enough to open that box, Oscar. I don't know what she put in there."

"Only one way to find out," He nudged her, sliding his hand from hers and to her hip, squeezing it. "I could look through it first, if you want?"

She nudged her side into him before compromising, "Let's do it together."

Arriving back at the castle as the sun set completely, the two of them settled onto a sofa in the library, with the sealed box on the table between them.

"Open it," Oz whispered, poking at Glinda's leg as she reached a trembling hand toward it.

She winced but managed to hold enough magic in her palm to unlock the box. "Okay," She sighed, feeling overwhelmed. "You lift the lid."

Leaning forward, Oz opened the top and couldn't help the smile that washed over him at the contents within, all tied in little piles, neatly labeled. The item meant to be taken out first was clearly marked, and he lifted out a piece of parchment that was rolled and labeled for Glinda to read.

She pulled a string, unrolling the paper that was stamped with a wax seal at the top with the Gillikin Country seal of an official document. "It's the will," She stated flatly. "She's...left all contents of the castle to me. And...the castle is now government property, to be used as needed for government purposes to be decided by the queen and the Wizard."

Oz kissed her temple and she passed him the Will, taking a deep breath and pressing her hands against her eyes. "I need a minute before the next one." He nodded and turned so that he was facing her, inviting her into his lap if she felt that was what she wanted.

Crying just for a moment, Glinda nodded and crawled up to him, pressing a knee on either side of his legs and rested her head between his neck and shoulder, gripping his button-down shirt. He gave a little groan and squeezed her tightly. "How about the next set of...stuff?" He asked with a peck to her cheek. She nodded, feeling a bit braver as she climbed off of him and nested back into the couch. Oz reached in for a stack of books, all neatly tied together with a ribbon that read her name.

She chewed her lip as she tugged them apart, opening the first one and giving a little laugh at the title of the hand-written book. "Glinda's Queenship Survival Guide: How to Raise Up a Kingdom in Seven Days. Or Months. Or Years, Really, if it Takes You That Long."

Oz snickered beside her, eyes trailing over the loopy script of Locasta's handwriting as Glinda flipped through the pages of the book, smirking at the occasional doodle on the side.

She opened the cover page of the second book, much thinner than the first, and flushed at the name of it, turning so Oz couldn't read, "Glinda's Lady-Parts and How they Work: A Field Guide to Sex and Soul-Binding."

"What's it say?" Oz asked trying to peak around Glinda's carefully placed hands. She shrieked, twisting away from him and laying on her side, careful of her burn. "Come on!" He laughed, leaning over to snatch it from her, earning her hands flailing up as she jumped to pounce him, fighting for custody of the embarrassing book. "Oh, goodness," He nearly choked when he finally got it, holding it an arms-length too high for Glinda, who's blush spread down her neck as she swatted his chest, trying to hold back her giggles. "Well, you don't need a book for the first part of the title anyway," He wiggled his eyebrows down at her. "Reading's quite impractical...You need first-hand experience. I'm a very good teacher."

She leaned her head back and shouted babble, cursing and thanking Locasta for her forethought in what she'd need to survive in a world without a woman to go to for questions. Daring to look at Oz, she pouted as he pursued through the book with a devious smile. "You're a jerk."

"And according to this, that turns you on," He nodded, eyes darting wildly across a page. "Yes, says here you'll be—"

"That's enough!" She bounced up, snatching the book back and closing it, pulling it past her shoulders as she gave him the meanest look she could conjure.

Oz laughed at the sight of her and she put the embarrassing how-to down on the table before jumping forward to press a kiss on his lips. "I think I might just surprise you once we can start...doing things that the book might recommend. Who knows what I might be capable of."

The Wizard felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head as he pulled her close into another kiss, laughing into her mouth as his hand caught the back of her head. "Alright," He smirked, rubbing his nose against hers and eyeing the remaining books. "What else do we have?"

Thankful for the break in the extremely tense tone, Glinda maneuvered her legs so she was still in his lap but able to sit comfortably. "Locasta's Fabulous Advice on Relationships: For the Good Days, the Abysmal Days, and all those In-Between." The blonde glanced up at a smile. "She's really going to be looking out for us."

Oz reached around Glinda for the next stack in the box, this one a set of books reading his name. Glinda was practically giddy as he made sure to take every bit of caution in removing the ribbon holding them together, making her antsy. The first book title made him laugh, "We've Survived Without a Wizard for Over 700 Years, What Makes You So Great? Answers on What You'll Do For Oz's People."

Glinda hooked her right arm around his neck. "On top of what you've already done."

His second book was titled, "What Wizardry is This? How to Teach Yourself [real] Magic [With the Assistance of your Lovely Queen]." He raised a brow at Glinda who shrugged. Smirking, he went with his motto. "Anything is possible."

The final book in his stack was, "Loving a Woman who's a Real Witch: Practical Relationship Advice."

Glinda took a turn to peer into the wooden box, surprised to find one more book alongside quite a few other items. She lifted the stack, noting it was labeled for both of them. She opened the first page of one, unable to stop the soft smile that graced her cheeks when he did so at the handwritten note that was in lieu of a title. "This book is enchanted. The spell will break when there is life in your belly."

Oz gripped her side, smirking into her shoulder before she lifted Locasta's original wand that had been carved by Eavana. "Her other one is in my room," Glinda shrugged, turning the piece of wood over in her hands. "We'll have to find a nice place to display them."

The Wizard reached in next, pulling out a nearly-disintegrated old map. A note on it read, "This was my first husband's childhood home. It still stands in good condition as I've maintained it over the years. It might be a nice, quiet place to escape should you ever need such a location."

"A secret place all alone," She grinned, turning to him. "That would be lovely, I think. Even if we only went a few times. Just to know that we'd be the only ones in the land who knew where we were."

Oz kissed her cheek and told her to reach into the box for the final items — Eavana's, Torix's, and Faelan's wedding bands all being among the most precious. At the bottom was an extensive list of magical items and artifacts around the castle that Glinda would need to take with her to the Emerald City for safe-keeping.

She placed the books, wand, rings, map, and will back in the chest. It hadn't been quite as traumatic as she anticipated it would be

"I think that maybe in the morning, we could start packing up all these things. But..." She yawned, feeling the pressure from twenty-four hours of crying built up in her sinuses. "I need to sleep for now."

Oz agreed, suggesting that she try to take a relaxing bath first. Finding it to be a more than wonderful idea, Glinda rose and took their box of treasures from Locasta, sealing it back up before leaving to her chambers.

On the way, Glinda nearly tripped, over what she thought at first was her own two feet, but quickly regained her balance and recognized, "The kitten! Oh my gosh, you poor thing!" She stopped, shoving the box into Oz's arms as she bent down to take the scrawny, white fluff-ball into her arms. "I hadn't seen it since...before you left! I...forgot about her. Poor thing must be starving!

Oz laughed and maneuvered the chest into one arm, stroking the kitten's forehead with the forefinger of the other. "Nah, I fed the bugger this morning. She was wandering the kitchen, I think she's been fine."

Glinda nuzzled her face into the kitten's before continuing to her room. "We aught to take her back to the Emerald City with us. She'd be alone here."

"Of course. A kitten to add to our family of a witch, a conman, a flying monkey and a six-year-old made of glass. A cat seems to be the next logical addition."

Glinda slugged him playfully as she set the creature down in the middle of her bed and rummaged around her drawers for a clean pair of undergarments and nightgown as Oz moved to draw steaming hot water for her bath.

Returning to her room, he stated, "I'll change your bandages and add more of the medicine to your burn when you're done. Try to keep it out of the hot water if you can."

Glinda made her way to the bathroom, stripping her clothes and sinking into a bubble-filled tub of heat. She couldn't help the contented moan that escaped her as she propped her left arm up on the side of the ground, covering the rest of her in the water, feeling her chest open up at the warmth. She bit her bottom lip, forcing herself not to cry as she enjoyed the bath. But as it was her first time alone since noon that morning, the tears seemed inevitable as they trailed down her already wet cheeks.

Oz could hear Glinda sniffing from where he lay curled up with their cat on her bed, but chose to let her cry it out on her own. She'd come out when she was ready to be with him again.

Sure enough, some twenty minutes later, Glinda exited the washroom in an off-white sleeveless nightgown an a towel on top of her head with her hair twisted under it to dry. Oz sat up, wearing only a pair of cotton pajama pants as he beckoned her to sit next to him, a clean rag and bandage ready.

She gave him her arm and he unwound the damp original tourniquet he'd made for her. The wound stared up at her, red and angry as she winced at the sight of it. "I wish I were in a better place to try and heal it before it scars up too bad."

Oz smirked and shrugged, slathering a layer of the anti-burn lotion against her skin, earning a sharp hiss. "I'd still love you even if you wound up with a mutilated arm." He didn't catch Glinda's reaction to his statement as he started wrapping the fresh bandage around the soon-to-be scar. "I've seen worse, you know, with lions and tigers and bears around in a traveling circus people tend to..." He trailed off, glancing up at Glinda's baffled face. "What is it? I was just kidding — it'll probably fade into a nice light pink, not—"

She shook her head, jaw slightly slacked. "You said...you said you'd still love me."

"Well, yeah..." Oz blinked, tying the knot of the bandage and placing his hands on her leg. "I would."

"Oscar, you said you'd love me. Love me. Do you...love me?"

The Wizard smiled, confused at her amazement at it all. "I thought it was obvious," He laughed nervously, "You said that you loved me, and all that stuff from Locasta about soul-binding, and—"

Glinda shook her head, her puffy eyelids drooping slightly. "Don't force yourself to feel something just because of what she's seen in the future or how I feel—"

Oz cut her off with a quick kiss. "I didn't think to make a big deal out of saying it, I'm sorry. I should have realized that would be something important. But, I do love you, Glinda. And it's not just because of Locasta's prophesies or her books or anything other then the fact that you are the most amazing woman I've ever met. You've changed me, for the better, and I know it's risky, but I do want to spend my life with you. It's only been six weeks that we've known each other, but there's no going back from what we've experienced together." He took both her hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

"Oscar," She started to cry again, overwhelmed with all that had happened, and now this proclamation — it was all too much. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her tight against him. "You know," She whipped her eyes, sniffing as she met his brown ones. "I feel like you've seen me cry a lot since you've been here. I'll have you know, I'm not usually this weepy."

The Wizard shrugged, leaning back on the bed so she was on top of him as he pressed his head into a pillow and maneuvered one hand to pull a blanket around them before reaching over to turn off a lamp, leaving them in darkness. "I want you to always feel comfortable expressing how you feel to me, sad, happy, whatever it is. And I'll do my best to say how I'm feeling too."

She pressed a kiss to his lips, sighing after it as she rolled off of him and made herself comfortable, gasping as she accidentally rolled onto her burn. "Switch sides," He nudged her, and she pouted.

"But then I can't see your face."

"I'll hold you," He responded, kissing her cheek as she rolled to lay on her right and Oz's arm circled her waist, his hand positioning itself over her belly button as he tucked his body against hers, comforted with the action of her shoulders rising and falling against his chest.

"I love you," He heard her whisper after he'd assumed she had already fallen asleep.

"And I you," Oz responded, kissing her neck and closing his eyes, eager to wake up for their last day in the Gillikin Country.

* * *

Oz stretched the following morning, rolling over and unhooking his arm from where it'd been around Glinda all night. Her chest rose and fell slowly. He suspected she'd want at least an hour more to sleep.

He was surprised when she turned towards him, fluttering her still-puffy eyelids open. "'Morning," she mumbled, bringing both arms above her head and sighing with a yawn.

Oz sat up, rubbing the sleep out of one eye while bringing his other hand to rest on her curly locks. "I'm surprised you're awake."

"I'm ready to get going, I think. I'd like to pack up and head home. There's no use sitting around sulking or wallowing in it all. I'd like to get to a place where I might find happiness." Her eyes sparkled with tears, but Glinda refused to shed them as she twisted in the blankets, tossing them off of her body.

"How about we go into town for breakfast?" She suggested, standing and moving to the wardrobe for an outfit — something a bit more glamorous than she'd been forced to wear for training. Lifting a white, beaded sleeveless gown from a hanger, she turned to find Oz ruffling through a bag for something suitable to wear himself.

"Sounds great," He nodded, stepping forward with a shirt and kissing her cheek. "I'll be back in about ten minutes."

Glinda tugged off her nightgown as he disappeared, giving a sigh and rubbing her swollen eyes, standing in only her undergarments. With Oz gone, even for a few minutes, the room felt gigantic and she like a speck of a bug, waiting to be crushed by her own feelings. Taking shaking breath, she hurriedly stepped into her dress, bending her arm around to zip it up and smoothing the front over her legs. Toeing on a pair of boots and fighting tears, she made her way to the vanity and ran a brush through her hair. Closing her eyes, she split the ends in half, taking a fistful of hair into each hand. Concentrating, she twisting the chunks around her forefinger, summoning enough magic to set the curls in place. Fluttering her eyelashes open and refusing to let the evidence of her overwhelmed state dribble from them to her cheeks, Glinda placed her crown on the top of her head and moved quickly to Oz's chambers.

She didn't knock and was grateful to find him decent, hunched over on the edge of his bed, tying a shoe. He sat up with a raised eyebrow, commenting, "Now how did you get ready before me—"

Glinda cut him off with her arms around his shoulders and head tucked into his neck with a breath of relief.

"Hey," He whispered, hugging her back just as tightly and kissing her temple. "What brought this on?"

"I feel fine around you, but alone...all my feelings just start to pull me down like a heavy anchor."

Oz groaned sympathetically, nuzzling his cheek to hers before shifting back to meet her eyes, still shining with unshed tears. "We'll stick together, then."

She leaned forward to peck his lips before taking another large breath and making herself smile. "Let's go into the city."

They walked down cobblestone paths, people politely bowing and waving greetings at them which the couple returned. Glinda felt herself at ease to interact with her people with the Wizard by her side. "I used to dread meeting people without my father. I'm glad you're here with me."

Oz squeezed her hand as they found a small corner restaurant, where Glinda did her best to describe the Ozian breakfast foods to Oz, though he'd eat pretty much anything put in front of him. He was pleased with his selection as their meal arrived and he devoured it while Glinda ate princess-sized bites, her back straight and fingers poised. "I'm going to have to teach you some regal manners," She joked when he leaned back and stretched his arms over his head after cleaning his plate in record time. "You've still got a lot to learn, Wizard."

"Thankfully," He started, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward on them. "I have a beautiful queen who can help me in that."

Glinda giggled, batting her long eyelashes at him. "Well, you can start by taking your elbows off the table, your highness."

Oz frowned and removed them, giving her a cheeky smirk before sitting up straight, shoulders square and chin up. "How's this?"

Giggling, Glinda nodded. "Wonderful."

The Wizard relaxed and sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Growing up, there wasn't even enough chairs in our little farmhouse kitchen to seat all of us for meals. The youngest four of us had pillows my Ma made that we sat on against the wall and we ate over an old blanket to keep from making too big of a mess. Since my real brother and sister were slow, they had a hard time and my dad would always yell at 'em..." Oz's eyes grew distant and Glinda gave a sympathetic look. "That's why I was so overwhelmed at the thought of being the King or Wizard when I got here. To actually have something other then a dusty trailer or a hundred year old house with two bedrooms for twelve people. It was all I had dreamed of as a kid."

Glinda tilted her head as she stated. "I'm glad you are going to be able to appreciate all we have here. We're very fortunate. We have three castles now, and a home in the Winkie Country...gosh. We really aught to figure out a way to make them more accessible for other people. We really have no need for so much on our own."

Oz agreed. "We could keep like a hallway or something for ourselves maybe. Turn the rest of the castle into affordable, public housing. Like what we're going to be doing in the Munchkinland."

Taking her last bite, Glinda stood and walked to stand beside him, pressing a loving hand to his shoulder. "Your experiences will be so helpful for our people. You know what it's like to have little, so you know what our people need. I think that's important." She kissed his cheek and patted his hand. "Let's go get packing so we can go home and work on implementing these changes."

A few hours later, Oz stuffed the last few books he could fit into a large box, turning to Glinda with a thumbs up and she raised her wand, focusing on the carriage that was in front of the castle, sending the assortment down. When she was finished, the library where she had spent much of her time over three weeks was nearly wiped out. "The horses are going to need two days with this great of a load, I think. I don't want to risk transporting all this with magic. Too fragile, and if it got into the wrong hands..." She trailed off, holding her wand with both hands by her fingertips. Oz couldn't help but smile at the sight — Glinda with her crown perched on her head, in a brilliant white dress and wand at the ready; this was the woman he fell for when he met her in the cemetery six weeks previously.

"Of course," He nodded, padding across the rug in the center of the room and standing in front of her, a hand on either of her hips, pulling her closer. "And is there room for us in the back or are we going to rough it for a few nights on the Yellow Brick Road?"

Glinda shifted her weight against him. "I don't know...maybe a few nights under the stars would be fun. So long as you'll hold me to keep me warm?"

Oz's grin grew wider and he tilted his head to lean in for a kiss. "All night, love."

* * *

They camped out well after darkness had fallen late that night, with Glinda whisking their cot and blankets out of the carriage and Oz starting a fire in a clearing before a forest. "There's few problems a chat around a campfire can't solve." The Wizard stated wisely, urning a turn of Glinda's eyebrow. "When everyone's good and drunk around the fire they let out their feelings and feel much better, I assure you. That's circus life, anyway."

Oz shoved a hand in his pants pocket, feeling the cool metal of Locasta's ring and necklace from the day before which he'd forgotten to take out. He gave Glinda a look, wondering if he should mention that the items were still in his possession so she could place them in the lock box of most important items

She shifted against the cot as she made herself comfortable on it, glancing up at the clear sky. In a simple traveling dress and black cloak, she was plenty warm, though there was a chill breeze in the air around them. There were several minutes of silence between them as Oz leaned back on his elbows, staring at the orange flames. Glinda broke the atmosphere of quiet by wistfully wishing, "I hope Locasta is happily united with Faelan and his parents."

"After five hundred years, I certainly hope so." He pulled a pillow from their stack and placed it behind him, closing his eyes and resting on it.

Glinda brought her hand to cover her mouth as she yawned, shaking her head with a long breath as she slid her hip down followed by her shoulder then her head on Oz's chest. One of his hands immediately rested in her hair, tangling fingers within the blonde curls. She sighed at the contact, bringing her fingers to dance over his chest, tracing lines against the folds in the fabric of his shirt. She opened her eyes to see the reflection of firelight against Locasta's protection seal, only to find no such beams streaming off her index finger. She sat up suddenly, Oz's hand caught in her sea of hair, earning a grunt as he pulled himself forward as well.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she examined the missing seal before she remembered Locasta's story of Eavana's death and the loss of her own protection kiss. At the thought, Glinda brought her hands, missing ring and all, to her face and let out a loud, sorrow-filled yell.

Oz tugged her to him, not sure what she was entirely upset about now, but let her cry out whatever feelings suddenly overwhelmed her. "Sh, sh," He whispered into her ear. "I know...It's okay."

"N-No, it's not!" She held up her left hand, sobbing. "It's gone!" The Wizard took it slowly, feeling each one of her fingers. "Locasta's p-protection seal!" His mouth formed an 'o' as he examined her now-naked finger and he sighed. There wasn't anything he could do about that. "It's always been a part of me," She cried, shaking her head.

He let her carry on for a bit before an idea occurred to him. Shifting her off of him slightly, Oz reached into his pocket and pulled out Locasta's wedding ring. Slowly, not to surprise her, Oz lifted her hand so she could see, and gently lowered the ring onto her finger. It was a little loose, but he hoped she'd be able to fix that with magic. He kissed the ring, then her palm, then her lips before pressing his forehead to hers. In the softest tone he could, he insisted. "Her protection spell might be gone, but she's still with you." His thumb caressed the golden band, earning a sniff into a smile from Glinda. "And since Locasta can't physically or magically be here, it'll be my job to protect you."

At the thought, Glinda tossed both arms around him, weeping into his shoulder in appreciation for everything he had done and would do for her in the future.

It was some time later when Glinda had finally cried herself to sleep that Oz was able to pry her off of him and lay her down. He ran a hand through his hair with a heavy breath, anticipating what sorts of dangers he might have to do his best to protect her from.

As he considered that he had no real magical abilities and wasn't the strongest man who'd ever lived, he realized that the greatest protection he could offer Glinda was emotional. As someone who spent most of his relationship history breaking hearts, he would have to do his best to truly protect hers and do nothing that could cause her any more turmoil then she already had faced in her thirty-one years.

He pulled a blanket over them and nestled himself next to her. With a long kiss to her forehead, Oz swore to himself to do anything he could to shield her soul from any more sadness, even if it meant bonding his own to hers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Breathing Again  
Chapter Nine  
**_Someday I'll wake and rub my eyes, and in that land beyond the skies, you'll find me._

Glinda poked her head into the room China Girl was sleeping in when she and Oz arrived back in the Emerald City late the following night. They'd powered the horses through the ride back and made it in record time. She had been eager to get home to see what was left of her old chambers, since she'd spent most of her first days of recovery in the King's. When she arrived however, she had been told by Finley that a certain six-year-old had been most troubled since returning to the palace.

With a sigh, since the little girl was asleep, Glinda prepared to leave the room, figuring she'd talk to the animated doll in the morning. "Wait," China Girl called sleepily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Glinda cringed, stepping into the too-large chambers and making her way to the oversized bed. "Go back to sleep, we'll talk tomorrow."

China Girl's shoulders shrugged and she frowned, fighting tears. "Why does everyone have to die?"

Glinda pressed her lips together, not ready to start a fresh round of crying. She lifted China Girl up, snuggling her against her chest. "It certainly seems like people come and go very quickly around here lately, doesn't it? It's so tragic. And I don't have an answer." Taking a shaky breath, Glinda kissed the top of China Girl's head. "I'm tired of losing people myself. And I know you are still struggling with what has happened to your people. We haven't really gotten to discuss that yet. But we will, little one."

"Oz said we could make some sort of memorial for them," She responded miserably, sliding back into her bed.

Glinda stroked the girl's cheek. "Absolutely we will, dearest. Try to sleep well," She bid her good-bye, standing and repositioning the blankets over China Girl's body.

About ready to collapse onto her own bed, Glinda walked down the hallway and pushed open the door to her old chambers, giggling at the sight of Oz already sound asleep on her bed, though it hardly looked like her old living quarters.

She groaned as she eyed their bags of clothing from their trip to the Gillikin Country. Everything of hers was dirty or not comfortable for sleeping and she did not have the patience to ruffle through stockpiles of old clothing that Evanora and Theodora had seen fit to put into the dungeon storage during their years of terror.

Giving a smirk as an idea formed, she opened one of the suitcases that contained Oz's clothes, and sure enough, he had one fresh outfit left. Stepping out of her dress, she found a longer button-up shirt that was soft enough to sleep in, which fell halfway down her thighs. Deeming it appropriate for the night, she stretched before gently climbing into bed, making herself snug next to the Wizard. He roused for a moment to mumble something incoherent and turn on his side, winding an arm around her. Giggling silently, Glinda pulled a blanket over her legs and let her head rest against his chest.

The following morning, as usual, Oz woke first, grinning at the sight of Glinda curled tightly against him. Her hand was over his heart and face cuddled in his neck. He kissed her cheek, hoping not to stir her as he carefully maneuvered so not to wake his sleeping witch.

Traveling to their luggage from the trip, Oz found himself his last pair of clean pants and undergarments, frowning as he swore there was at least one more shirt in the bag. Shrugging, he decided to deal with the matter after a long, well-needed soak.

Glinda's chambers were extravagant; possibly more-so than the King's. She'd told him on their way home that they were designed for her by the Master Tinker and his crew when she was very young, with only her crude drawings of what she wanted to go by. What they had produced was beyond any expectation, as Oz noted as he stepped into the lavish washroom. Swirled, white marble floors and polished silver adornments were everywhere. A slightly elevated, big-enough-for-ten bathtub was to the left of the room, which he tossed his clean clothes near while hunting for a towel in a cupboard. True to the theme of the city, most of them were in greens or whites, with one pink, smaller sized towel in the middle of the stack. He pulled it out, revealing a silver 'G' sewn into the back and he fought an eye-roll with a smirk at the sight.

Turning a knob on the tub and letting the water heat, Oz ruffled through shelves to find something no-so-feminine to use for soap. Assuming Evanora hadn't taken over this room was his best bet, as none of the ridiculous names to describe floral scents seemed to strike him as something she'd use. Giving up, he decided that he'd simply smell like a fresh daisy for the day.

After a relaxing soak, he dried off, feeling too bashful to use the pink 'G' towel after having already subjected himself to a floral pampering. He tied a dark green towel around his waist and left for a moment to rummage through his brown suitcase for a pair of small scissors to clean up his beard with.

Eventually he was bathed, groomed, and ready to attack his first morning in the Emerald City, with the first item on his agenda to wake the sleeping dragon in the room next to him followed by hunting down a shirt.

Glinda had rolled over onto her stomach with a blanket pulled up to her earlobes as she snored lightly, her hair tousled all over the pillow. Oz grinned and crawled up the bed to lay on top of the mound that was her body, earning a groan as she pushed her weight into the mattress. He pressed the blanket down and slid his fingers over her shoulders, sneaking his lips onto her turned cheek. "Good morning, my Queen. It is time to rise and greet your kingdom."

She twisted her face and rubbed it into the pillow, mumbling something about the kingdom being able to greet itself. Oz sat up with his legs straddled over her hips, pulling the blanket down with him and pressed warm kisses down from her neck to her lower back, earning a more satisfied groan this time. "Breakfast will surely be waiting if you can manage to get yourself up."

Glinda squirmed against him and Oz rolled to stand on the bed next to her while she extended her arms up in a dramatic stretch with a screechy yawn before pushing herself up, her ankles tucked under her. She blinked slowly, turning to meet Oz's stare as he eyed her ensemble. "And there's my last clean shirt."

He tugged her hips towards him as he earned a trouble-making smirk from Glinda. She undid the top button and the bottom one, causing him to swallow hard. "I'm sorry, Wizard...would you like it back?" Oz opened his mouth to speak, but didn't trust himself to, so settled instead for pressing it hard to hers. She groaned and hooked a hand around his bicep, leading the other to the tail end of the front of the shirt as she pulled away to whisper. "I'll take it off and put it on you, if that's what you want."

She led his fingers to the second button from the bottom, letting him toy with it for a moment before it popped open while she strayed her own hand to the top, revealing a long line of cleavage. He pressed his free hand to her hip, holding her still as he moved his lips to her neck and she slid another fastener out of the hole. The Wizard pulled away to meet her lusty eyes and he bit the inside of his cheek to contain himself from pressing his mouth to her sternum.

It wasn't long before the entire shirt was unbuttoned and Oz had to restrain himself with every ounce of energy in his body to keep from ogling her exposed chest. Glinda shifted her shoulders to shrug out of his shirt, never breaking eye-contact. Oz struggled to breathe as she fitted it around his back, sliding his arms into the sleeves and taking her time with nimble fingers to close each button, leaving the top one open for her to lean forward and kiss his warm flesh.

He refused to look down, knowing he'd be completely done for if he did. Instead, he helped her stand, pulled her in for a quick hug and kiss on the forehead then whispered, "I'll meet you in the dining hall."

Glinda deflated when he left, falling backwards on the bed in a mad fit of giggles, completely shocked at her own actions — that she'd had the courage to actually go through with them. The look on his face and obvious struggle with his arousal was completely worth the flush that now stained her cheeks as she gathered a hold of herself to ruffle through her own clothes to find something suitable for the day.

* * *

Glinda tied the bright yellow bow in the back of China Girl's new dress snugly before turning the little girl around with a beaming smile as she bent her knees up and down with excitement. "Ready?"

"Ready!" She bounced up to give Glinda a hug, one the significantly calmer witch gladly returned. After three days back in the Emerald City, the majority of her old items restored from the pits of the dungeons, Glinda was finally starting to feel a little peace.

Oz poked his head in the door, smirking at the sight of Glinda and China Girl. They'd taken China Girl to her new school the day before, and the doll was more than excited to go back for her first day. "Ladies all set?"

"Almost," Glinda smirked, unhooking a small string of pearls that was around her wrist and reattaching it around China Girl's neck, letting it hang almost to the middle of her chest. "There."

"It's beautiful!" China Girl marveled, gingerly touching the beads. "Thank you."

Oz scooped her onto his shoulder and took Glinda's hand, leading them through the halls of the Emerald City Palace. Their palace — their family home.

Finley met them at the front walkway and the small, misfit family made their way through the Emerald City for only the second time together since they'd all been back. Oz relied on Glinda to lead them through the wide paths that jutted out from the center of the city, the Palace, to the roads that lead to shops, restaurants, homes, or businesses. The Academy for Emerald City's Girls was nearly fifteen minutes walk from the city's center, but well worth the time for the look on the little girl's face as she scrambled down form the Wizard's shoulder and to the ground, where a group of girls her age were waiting to take her into the school. A teacher laughed and greeted the royal couple with a courtesy, assuring them that China Girl would be well cared for and well educated in her time away from home.

"There is no doubt in my mind this will be the best place for her," Glinda confessed, beaming as she eyed the little doll from the window, giving a little wave and earning one back before turning to Oz. "Time for the announcements?"

"Indeed," He agreed with a nod, eyeing the sky and predicting they had just a half-hour to prepare. He was nervous, hoping the good people of the Emerald City would buy into their story about his human form, and be accepting of the relationship between he and Glinda. It was a bit too much power, in his own opinion, for the Wizard and Queen of the Land of Oz to be sharing in a relationship; he knew plenty about Checks and Balances, and if they were together, there would be none. Therefore, he was hoping that within the next few weeks, the restructuring of the entire Ozian country would begin, just as Locasta's book had advised.

He'd read his ruling book from cover to cover thrice over in three days, nervous to truly begin a reign over the land without someone to guide him firsthand. Glinda had little practical experience in leadership, none that had derived form her own doing, anyhow. He felt completely unprepared as she led him up to a podium where he was to deliver his first official speech as Wizard to a waiting press and gathering of Ozians.

As the clock chimed nine in the morning, he cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and felt relaxed at the heavy hand that was against his lower back, a small indent from a ring pressing firm against him. Glinda gave her softest smile, and at the reassuring gesture, Oz began to speak.

"My fellow Ozians...as you may have heard from rumors or seen in the papers or visually before you now for clarification, I, your Wizard, have taken on a mortal shell once again. I have done this for not only your sake, but my own. Living as an all-powerful etherial being was as grueling as you might expect. And while the pressure was something I felt I could have lived with, I chose to manipulate my magic, with the help of your lovely Queen, and return to you as a human once more. I feel that in this body, I may service you in a more realistic capacity, truly embodying the word serve. As a spirit, there were not hands I could lift to aid in the reconstruction process of this great land, nor was there a fair way to go about spreading my time throughout the Land of Oz. Now, in this form, I can join you in rebuilding the nation, restructuring the government, and reminding you all that we are all in this land of Oz together!"

The crowd that had gathered erupted into applause, and Glinda clapped her hands together as well, catching his eye and forcing his grin to widen. Feeling completely confident, he began his next proposal. "The Land of Oz is beautiful and full of wonders. Unfortunately, many of these beautiful and wondrous things were tainted by the reign of the wicked witches. Whole towns were destroyed and their people with them. These tragedies will not be forgotten. I am personally funding a project to clean up these lost villages and erect memorials in honor of the forgotten." The people cheered again and Oz reached into his coat, removing a scroll. "This list of skilled workers we will need will be placed in the city message center. Those who sign up to work will be compensated for their time devoted to these projects.

"I also have a new structure for the running of not only the Emerald City's government, but each country within this land. Representatives will be chosen by the people to work with us in the Palace in creating new policies, law, and handling the day-to-day running of our government. More information on this will be out in pamphlets next week, one for each family in Oz. But, start thinking of who among you are fair, honest, and selfless people that you might nominate and elect to represent you on our court."

Those in the Emerald City mumbled amongst themselves at the idea of a new system for delivering their issues and needs to the Wizard. In the past, everyone needed an individual audience with the king. Now, they would be able to take their complaints or suggestions to one person who's sole job was to care for them. It would be an adjustment that would take time, but Oz was sure a democracy would be for the better in the long run.

"The final point I'd like to make while I have your attention this wondrous morning, is that many of you have realized by now that your former Princess is now your Queen." Glinda flushed, she hadn't known he was going to speak about her. Oz gave her a look and took her hand in his, drawing her closer to the podium. "She has spent the past month in the North, working extraordinarily hard on learning how to do the job and increasing her already powerful magic and unlocking her potential. Though the intent of the Wizard by the Great King was to be the leader of this land, I have every intention on sharing the role of leadership with Glinda. With her compassion, goodness, and complete devotion to you, people of Oz, she will make an excellent Queen. I am proud to stand beside her today, and looking forward to a lifetime of great, and good things with her."

The crowd went wild in applause and support for the Wizard's statement. Glinda turned her body in closer to his, hiding her red face from the people as she fought a smile. "Glinda and I have been through plenty together since I first came to Oz, and our relationship is growing stronger each day. I cannot wait for all of you to be able to witness us grow as leaders and as a couple destined for one another. The new system of government I am putting in place will work to ensure that the relationship that Glinda and I have outside of leading the people does not affect our work when we are."

Glinda nodded and wrapped her arm around his, watching her people hang on the Wizard's every word, full of wonder and anticipation for what would lie ahead during their reign.

Oz cleared his throat,"At this time, I will now answer a few questions in an orderly fashion." Reporters hands flew up as he began calling on them one at a time, most of his answers unclear as they asked detailed questions about the new structure of government. "You'll receive all this information next week, I assure you," He said with a chuckle as he restated it a final time. "Any questions not regarding the new system?"

A tall, lanky reporter near the back of the crowd called out, "When's the wedding?"

Glinda flushed pink again and Oz gave a full-on laugh. "All things in good time, good sir. We'll make sure there is plenty of notice."

With that, he wrapped up his speech and thanked the people for their time. Glinda nodded to those gathered and silently agreeing, Oz took her hand and bypassed the press, making his way straight to the people, shaking hands and greeting them. Glinda stood by, speaking mostly to small children who were at the gathering with their mothers, coming down to their height and listening to them speak animatedly about this or that, allowing them to swarm her in hugs. She couldn't stop the giggles that flowed out of her, as she was finally with her people in her city that she'd grown up in. Though her father was not there to lean on and wait for instructions from, she felt, with Oz's presence looming over her and picking up small children to entertain, that she could make it on without the Great King.

* * *

They stayed in the city for well over three hours, mingling with people, visiting shops and preparing the message center, only returning to the Palace when Oz's stomach decreed it was time for lunch. A group of palace chefs had anticipated their arrival, preparing a decadent meal that seemed to surpass any Oz had eaten already within the land. Glinda was hardly hungry while the Wizard shoveled food into his mouth. She ate slowly, forcing each bite down, feeling most ungrateful for the work that was put into the meal.

"Next you have an audience with the current mayors of the various countries while I work with the Tinkers in developing..." Oz rattled off, not noticing Glinda's lack of focus until he realized she hadn't chimed in on his one-sided conversation. He called her name, and again louder. "Glinda?"

She looked up from her plate, a hand raised near her head as she lifted her eyebrows at him. "What's on your mind?"

Smiling in a way that was clearly forced, she shook her head. "Nothing, Oscar."

He stood from his place and moved behind her, tugging her chair out from the table and squatted in the space he created in front of the witch. "Don't you lie to the Wizard," He teased, placing his hands on her upper thighs, rubbing them through the fabric of her blue-tinted gown.

"I'm just confused, I guess. That you'd tell the people of Oz we'd be married in a 'good time,' but...that you wouldn't tell me?"

Oz opened and closed his mouth, trying not to smile. "Come with me, alright? Let's go somewhere without eyes and ears." He tugged her hands and she reluctantly followed him down a series of hallways and stairs until they arrived in her old, familiar chambers that they'd been sharing. "What I meant when I answered that reporter was that it was none of his, or anyone else's business what you and I do, or when you and I do it. I didn't want to very well tell him to stick that feather-pen into a place where he wouldn't want to retrieve it. I'm the Wizard now, you've told me I have to be cordial." Glinda fought against herself not to smile. Oz took a seat next to her on the edge of their bed. "I do want to marry you, Glinda. In a good time. In our time. Not on someone else's schedule. When we are ready for it."

"But Oscar, I am ready for it!" She nearly whined as she groaned and twisted her leg up on the bed to face him. "I just want to be with you. In every way."

He reached forward, bringing both her cheeks into his hands and pressing a firm kiss to her lips. What other man would be so hesitant in this? "I know you do, I'm hearing you, Glinda, I truly am. What would you think of a promise?"

"Promise?" She tilted her head in his hands. "Oscar, please don't make some sort of ultimatum—"

"No, no," He kissed her again, pulling back to nuzzle his forehead to hers before whispering. "By the end of the season, we'll be married. At summer's end. I promise you."

"That's still two months away, Oscar," Glinda sighed, her eyes darting down to her lap as she pushed his hands off her face and laced them into hers. "Please, _please_, I'm craving you...and your touch."

Oz swallowed hard as he felt his heart rate increase at her statement. Her face was flushed — either it had been embarrassing to admit, or she was _really_ craving his touch in the moment. He leaned forward and pulled her into his lap, tucking his face into her neck, kissing the layer of skin in front of his lips. She groaned and slid her hands down his back, unintentionally grinding her hips against his. "What are you so afraid of that you want to wait two more months to unite with me, Oscar?"

He slid a finger between the buttons along her spine, feeling the smooth pink of a scar as he sighed. "Glinda, I don't know. I just know that I'm not ready for marriage today, and I won't be tomorrow or the end of this week. I do want you, every part of you, I..." He lowered his voice, moving his lips up to her ear to whisper, "I want to be inside of you." Earning a shiver and feeling the first dribble of a tear against his shoulder, he swallowed hard. "I just don't want to be married this week or next, love. By the end of the summer, I promise you I'll be ready." He brought a hand up to tangle in the back of her hair and Glinda pushed on his chest, forcing him to meet her watery eyes.

"You're sure? By summer's end, we'll be wed?"

He sucked a breath and gave a firm nod. "I promise, Glinda," He kissed her cheek and then her lips, causing her to kiss feverishly back, pushing him down against the mattress and laying across his body, she pressed her hips into his, smirking into the kiss at the friction she felt between them. She undid the buttons on his vest, tossing it open and lifting his now-wrinkled shirt out from his pants so she could slide her hands up his bare torso, earning a pitch from him. She ground her hips again to his, opening her mouth onto his, forcing her tongue in between his lips and dominating him completely. Moving a brave hand from his chest to just below his navel, she motioned a fingertip into the waistline of his pants, prepared to continue when she felt a hand leave her hair and grip her wrist tightly. "No," Oz choked out hoarsely, sitting up. "There's no stopping from that," He managed to say, his breath fast as Glinda acted as if it hadn't bothered her and peppered kisses along his jawline. "Glinda, I-I can't...you have to..."

"...Hm?" She questioned in a hum, running her nails along his shoulders with one hand and letting the other tangle in the curls at the base of his neck.

"God almighty," Oz groaned, bringing both arms to squeeze her tight against him.

Glinda smirked again as he detangled her from him and pressed a kiss to her forehead, making haste toward their attached bathroom. And he was the one who wanted to wait? Every part of her doubted that they'd make it to the end of the summer to be married. Smoothing her hair and moving to her vanity to ensure she was presentable, Glinda eyed the time and noted she had enough of it to speak with the royal festival planner. If he was going to make her wait, he was going to get a wedding worth waiting for.

* * *

Glinda passed Oz the last nail in the kit he'd assembled to put together an appropriate-sized bed for China Girl. Though several of the Tinkers were in the process of accommodating much of the furniture the royal family used in their daily lives to suit the small child's needs, Oz wanted China Girl to come home from the end of her first week at school with at least a bed all of her own.

"And that'll do it," Oz nodded to himself, flipping the frame over and wiping his brow.

"I hope so," Glinda agreed, standing to look at the much smaller frame, though it was up at a height that wouldn't be too awkward for either she or Oz to tuck the little China Princess into at night, it had a staircase at the end so she could safely get herself in and out as needed. "Something nice for the next night before we have to return to Chinatown. Poor thing, I hope she'll be alright."

Oz shrugged. "I think she will be. She's a tough little cookie...well, for being made out of China, anyhow."

Glinda shook her head. "She's going to be more upset then she'll let on. She'll need lots of cuddles that night, for sure."

"Miss Glinda?" A soft voice called from the doorway, clearly nervous to interrupt the Queen and her Wizard. "You're appointment was at ten?"

"Oh, goodness, Marci, I am so sorry. I'll be right with you!" Oz was about to question who it was that was wishing to speak with the witch. "She's a friend. I'll see you later," She pecked his cheek and followed the tall, dark skinned woman out the door.

"There's samples of the dresses you requested in the east study, and I've drawn up some possible arrangements for the wedding and the banquet, but we really do need to narrow down who will be attending...if we've got the whole Emerald City and then some coming, we're going to need at least two more staff to aid in the planning process..." The royal festival planner trailed off, excited yet slightly intimidated to host the first real big celebration since Glinda's father had passed.

"I'll have that figured out by the start of next week, I assure you," Glinda understood, she was trying to plan as much of this as sneakily as she could. "I'm thinking a huge feast with dancing and fireworks for everyone — no need to set aside a few people as though their worth is greater." They stepped into the east study, where Glinda immediately felt choked up at the sight of the extravagant dresses Marci had brought up for her. "Oh, these are...phenomenal! They look just like the pictures! They're gorgeous, truly."

"We'll have them sent to your room this evening for you to try on...now if you'll take a look through these booklets..."

They spent the next hour or so making arrangements and selecting pieces of this or that, preparing for the celebration of the century.

The afternoon wound down with Oz in an interview with a potential general, as he insisted the Land of Oz needed some sort of army to be prepared should the Wicked Witches ever strike back. Glinda left the Palace for a stroll through the Emerald City, greeting her people before picking China Girl up from school. Though it was unofficially Finley's duty to ensure the little doll returned home safely each day, Glinda recalled the joy she felt whenever her father had time to gather her at the end of a school day instead of a Palace servant. She also felt like a part of a group as she gathered with other parents of small girls outside of the academy, engaging in conversation with them about the trials and tribulations of being a parent. Though she was new to the world of motherhood, Glinda felt confident in her abilities to create a successful, if not untraditional, family for China Girl.

"Glinda!" The doll beamed as she was the first one to skip out of the schoolhouse for the day, a little bag around her shoulders full of books and school supplies that Glinda had enchanted to suit her properly. The Queen bent to gather her pseudo-daughter, unable to get a word in edgewise as the girl chattered away about the day she'd had, pausing multiple times to bid farewell to her classmates, fast friends. "-And I didn't even stumble on any of the words when it was my turn to read! Oz was right! Once you read something one time, it's easier to read it for a second time."

"Well I'm glad that his advice is proving helpful to you, love." Glinda gave a gentle, affectionate squeeze to the girl's knee. "I got my dresses in today."

China Girl lit up, in on the secret wedding planning. "Oh, oh! I can't wait to see them! Do they look like the pictures?"

"Exactly like the pictures, if not even more beautiful in person!" Glinda exclaimed, having had picked out the dresses she wanted to try with China Girl. "I'll try them on as soon as we get back to show you, Oscar is in a meeting and should be for quite some time, so we'll be in luck."

"Perfect! And then we should pack...for...you know," Her voice dropped as she considered having to return to her destroyed hometown. She full of nerves at the prospect of seeing the broken buildings and people once again.

"I know, love. We'll get through it together. And if you want to leave at all before we're done, I'll bring you right on back to the Palace."

China Girl gave a firm nod, clearing the negative thoughts from her mind before switching the topic back to the wedding. Upon arriving back to the Palace, the two headed straight for the Queen's chambers, where Glinda put on the first dress, amazed at it's beauty and rich detail, feeling completely spoiled to have had such a gown made just for her. China Girl marveled at the beading on the sleeves, tugging the material of the train. "Um, Glinda?" She questioned, blinking as she squinted at the woman's slightly-exposed spine. "What's all the red stuff on your back?"

Glinda's heart skipped a beat as she moved to a full-length mirror in her room, turning around and craning her neck, her shoulders slumping as she caught sight of the angry, ruby-hued lighting-shaped scars on her back. "Oh...that's from my fight with Evanora...perhaps this dress...isn't the one," She nodded, moving with haste behind the dressing curtain to try on the next dress, followed by another, and another, feeling completely defeated when all four of the gorgeous gowns showed the hideous markings along her back, along with the lighter pink scar from Theodora's burn on her upper arm. Fighting back her disappointment in front of China Girl, Glinda made a comment about seeing more dresses from their book or having a few altered to hide the scars. China Girl agreed that would be the best course of action before they quickly stowed the dresses away as Glinda sensed Oz's presence coming toward the room.

"Good afternoon, ladies!" He greeted them each with a kiss to the cheek, noting Glinda's obvious dissatisfaction with something, though he did not want to question her in front of their practically adopted child. When China Girl asked if he'd assist her with homework, he was more than willing, despite his concerns for the witch.

Glinda spent the next two hours before dinner pouring through texts from Locasta about healing, desperate for a way to remove the scars from her body. Curled up in an armchair before the fireplace that stood tall at the end of her chambers, she flipped through page after page, wishing that Locasta could have simply done the healing herself.

All but given up, Glinda felt her eyes mist over as she saw the title of an entry in one of the journals titled 'Stop Fussing, You Look Fine.' She sniffed as the words danced across the page and into her short-term memory. _"Men don't actually care what you look like. Maybe at first, but after the initial attraction, there is much more involved in why they feel the way you do that does not include the length of your hair, the chub on your thighs or the scars that might line your back. I didn't heal you externally for good reason, and the Wizard knows this. You won't find a cure for your scars. They're a part of you and I want you to live with them..."_

"Well I don't!" Glinda replied out loud, tossing the book and giving into a face messy with tears. Two hours she'd wasted on attempting to discover something that didn't even exist, when she could have been inventing the cure herself.

* * *

Oz entered his shared chambers, whistling as he prepared to gather his witch. She'd been so irregular with her moods that he was starting to wonder if he could time them and determine when would be best to approach her throughout the day.

At the familiar sounds of her sniffing, Oz quickened his pace, blinking in confusion as he found her sitting in only a pair of navy blue sleep-pants, his sleep-pants, and nothing else, twisting her neck with her head over her shoulder in front of a mirror, with her hands glowing above her spine. "Oh...'kay...Um..." He stepped forward, dropping to his knees in front of her and meeting her gaze in the mirror, which she responded to by closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Nope, not going away," He predicted her mantra, "At least not until you honestly tell me what is happening here. And why it's happening."

Glinda shook her head, tears abundant as her hands stopped glowing and she brought them to her lap. She attempted to regulate her breathing enough to give a composed explanation but found it difficult to do so. Oz scooted closer, twisting so he was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, leaning over to press a gentle hand to her bare back, earning a loud sob. "Does it hurt?"

"No," The blonde blubbered. "No, not...pain."

"Okay..." Oz nodded. "Then what is it?"

"It's...it's just...it's just..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, dabbing at her cheeks and sniffing loudly, realizing she wasn't wearing a top and slowly bringing her arms to cross her chest. "I want...I want the scars gone."

"Oh..." Oz lifted an eyebrow, he didn't even truly see the scars when he looked at her. He studied them for a moment. "What, um...What's bothering you about them?"

"They're disgusting!" Glinda hissed loudly. "They're hideous. And I want to heal them, but...Locasta didn't leave me instructions on how to do it and I don't know how and I'm too upset to heal anyway and...she said she wanted me to have them and I don't know why she'd want me to have such a horrifying memory etched into my back and I can't wear any of the beautiful dresses that I picked out for our wedding without looking like someone tried to mince me to pieces and I was too weak to stop them!"

At her hysterical revelation, Oz pondered each of her reasons separately, letting her cry it out as he processed them. After taking a moment, he gave a firm nod of his head and tugged Glinda into his lap, pressing a few warm kisses to her temples before his fingers took a bold wander as they started at the base of her spine and traveled up slowly, following the line of her scar up to her neck, where he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to her hairline and nose against the top of her scar.

"They're not hideous," He whispered, both hands coming up to squeeze her shoulders as his head stayed in place. "They're a beautiful testament to your strength and courage." He felt her shiver and smirked, tipping his chin up so the scruff of it was against her neck. His hands lowered themselves back to the base of her spine, tracing the reminder of her bravery once more."They're as impressive as you are brave. They are a symbol of how the belief in true goodness can overcome all wickedness."

Glinda muffled a sob as she twisted against him to hide her embarrassed face into his shirt. "They're nothing more than a sign that I couldn't save my people on my own." She cupped her arm where the scar lingered from Theodora's burn. "I couldn't protect the people that meant the most to me."

"Sh...You know that's not true," Oz whispered, curling one hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and letting the other continue to wander up and down the pink, raised skin on her back. "And even so, there's no shame in needing help to complete a task as great and terrible as taking down Evanora and Theodora. Locasta told me that it's the greatest sign of a leader to understand you can't do it all on your own."

The Queen sat up a bit, keeping her arms carefully positioned to cover herself and at his words, she felt ridiculous for carrying on at all. "I'm sorry, I'm being completely petty and self-serving, we have a job to do and—"

He nuzzled his messy mop of hair against her shoulder blade. "It's not petty to need a reminder that you are beautiful," He started, tilting her head back to meet her gaze. "And capable of more than you know."

Upon hearing her own words spoken back to her, Glinda let out another cry, shaking her head and maneuvering so her arms were locked around his neck and head against his chest. Oz rocked her slowly, kissing her over and over until she'd finally calmed some. "I know that you might not think so, but I really do think your scars are beautiful, Glinda. Just like you. Just like your goodness. Locasta felt the same way, and she wanted you to bear your scars with pride."

Glinda felt her puffy eyelids open widely at the notion that Locasta had truly felt that wearing her scars was necessary. "I'm also sure that you'll look fucking gorgeous in whatever wedding dress you decide to wear, scars aside." Oz rubbed her back again, kissing her neck. "Let everyone know the sacrifice you made for them, and show it proudly."

The witch pulled back, forcing a watery smile before pressing a kiss to her Wizard's lips. "I could show you, if you wanted."

Oz smirked and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, clearing them of tears. "Isn't it bad luck or something to see the bride in her dress before the big day?"

"Listen, I've had enough bad luck to last a lifetime. Do you want to see?"

"I'd love to," Oz nodded, kissing her puffy lips one last time before Glinda took a few deep breaths and padded over to the wardrobe where she'd stored them.

"There's a few of them, so you tell me which one you like best."

He leaned back against the foot of their bed, sighing silently and running a hand through his hair as she disappeared behind a changing curtain. Hearing the rustle of satin and lace and bows and tulle and other fabrics he wish he didn't know about, Oz reflected on the past ten minutes of his life and how they confirmed he really wasn't ready for the wedding that Glinda was tugging on dresses in anticipation for.

When had they started planning a wedding, anyway?

"Okay, this one is my least favorite, but it's alright, I guess," She stated before stepping out in a off-white gown that was strapless, fitted at the top and flared at the bottom just below her hips into a ruffled layer of translucent fabric. Small patches of crystals lined the sides and into the ruffles, with a layer that dipped into her exposed cleavage.

"Damn," Oz mumbled, blinking fast at the sight of her. She turned around, showing him the back — though unlaced, he could see her concern of the scars sticking out at the top.

"They don't show in this one as much as they do in the others, actually," She sighed, keeping the dress up with one and and flittering the other through her hair while examining the dress again in the mirror. "I think China Girl already disapproved of this one anyway."

"Oh, she's in on all this?"

Glinda couldn't help the smirk that graced her face. "Well she's my only female companion at the moment that I've got any sort of relationship with."

The next two dresses she showed him were just as impressive, though she had decided to save her favorite for last. She tugged the lace that stopped in her mid-back. Though it was her first choice, it also exposed the most of her battle with Evanora. Deciding that Oz's reaction would be her decision-making factor, Glinda took a deep breath and walked slowly out from behind the curtain.

"Oh, hell, now I know that this place is actually heaven. Good god, Glinda, you look like an angel."

She flushed completely as Oz picked himself up to draw closer to her, enthralled by her presence.

A sweetheart neckline danced along the top of her breasts, with extravagant beading and crystals along the bodice. At exactly her waistline, a sash tied together in the back, layered with an over-the-top meshing of diamond studs. The dress flowed from the ribbon into a floor-length skirt, with irregular ruffled lairs cut in an intricate pattern. She'd wowed him many times before, but in this dress, Glinda was beyond stunning. Even with her face still red, hair a mess and no accessories or crown to top it off with, Oz new that despite his hesitation, this would be the dress he'd marry her in.

"Absolutely incredible," He mumbled, circling her for a moment as she brought her hands up close to her face, blushing furiously. "None of that," He insisted, lowering her delicate fingers, pressing a kiss to each palm before taking her hand, lifting it over her head and spinning her around twice, watching as the fabric danced with her. He paused with her facing the mirror, standing directly behind her. Kneeling for a moment, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips at the base of the tie, where her scars started to rise. His hands firm on her hips, he kissed the line straight up to her neck, stopping where it ended and circling his arms around her, pulling her flush to him. "You're gorgeous. Scars and all."

She closed her eyes as well, leaning into him and sighing, drawing her arm up and around to grab at the back of his neck, turning her mouth to kiss his cheek. "I can't wait to wear it at the end of the summer...mostly because I'm looking forward to you taking it off me."

Oz groaned, god she could be cruel. But, two could play at that game he supposed. pulling her forward slightly, the Wizard opened his eyes to meet hers in the mirror, smirking devilishly. "There's nothing wrong with a little practice, is there?"

He moved his hands to her back, unlacing the ribbon that held the dress together. It fell off her easily as it still needed alterations to fit properly before their big day. Glinda flushed, but let him carry on with no complaints. Instead, she turned, stepping out of the dress, clad only in undergarments with no supporting top. Oz let his eyes wander down for the first time since they'd arrived back at the Palace, admiring the view. He scooped her up and took them to the bed, setting her straight in the middle, where she was immediately sitting up right to hastily remove his button-down. Both topless, Oz pulled the witch on top of him, groaning at the contact of bare skin to bare skin, leaning to nuzzle against her cheek. "Your body is perfect," He muttered, eyes closed as Glinda ran her neatly manicured nails along his chest and down towards his navel. "Careful," He warned, hoping she'd remember what he'd said earlier in the week."

"I know," Glinda nodded, sitting up and hovering her lips over his. She pecked him once, twice, three times slowly and sweetly before gliding her nails through his hair and sliding down his torso, resting her hips along his and earning a sucked in breath before Oz put a hand between her shoulder blades to keep her to him as he rolled them over. She'd been dominate enough since they returned to the Emerald City.

His lips attacked hers with fever and one of his knees came to separate her thighs. Glinda moaned into his mouth at the sudden contact. "Oscar," She sighed his name, opening her eyes just barely to see him lifting his lips from hers and trailing them lower and lower until she gave a loud, satisfied groan as they latched around a breast. "Oscar..." She nearly choked out, her fingers at the nape of his neck, holding him in place as best she could — the sensation was everything she'd hoped and then some as she felt her head roll to the side as his hand that wasn't perched at her waist moved to give attention to her other breast.

At his enthusiastic touches and nibbles, she could tell he'd been patiently waiting to touch and explore her this way for weeks, and she wasn't sure why they'd waited so long until his knee jutted up higher and the lamp next to their bedside shattered at Glinda's lack of control over the feeling he'd stirred within her. She groaned and Oz lifted his head up to ensure she was alright, pushing himself to his elbows to ensure there wasn't broken glass in her hair. She struggled to catch her breath as she brought both hands to cover her eyes, not wanting to see his face as she'd lost her ability to keep her magic intact during yet another intimate moment.

Oz lifted her them down, giving her a sympathetic, pouting expression. "Sorry, love," He whispered, kissing her lips and down lower, all the way to her belly-button. His hand grazed the line of her undergarments, causing Glinda to groan again. "See, it's not so different from my reaction to yours."

"Well...at least yours doesn't cause things to...explode!"

The Wizard gave a full-belly laugh at her response. "Oh, Glinda...you aught to get reading on that book from Locasta. I think you'll find yourself restating that." He kissed her innocent lips once more, then each of her cheeks, her chin, her nose, and her forehead.

Glinda wrapped an arm around him and hugged him close, sighing. "I love you," She muttered, feeling her eyelids growing heavy, despite the early evening hour. "Sure you want to wait until the end of summer?"

Oz gave a half-laugh and nodded, bringing his head to rest against her chest, comforted by the sounds of her slowing heart-rate as she finally started to relax. "Quite sure, my Queen."

Glinda whined and Oz kissed her skin near her neck before pulling up and motioning for her to lift her hips so he could pull the blankets down and over her body. "I'm going to wrap up a few things for the evening. I'll join you again in a bit, love." With a final press of his lips to hers, Glinda gave a little wave and rolled over, feigning as if she were going to sleep as he left the room. The moment she sensed his footsteps pacing away, she tossed the sheets off and scrambled to the trunk in the middle of the end table by the fireplace, pulling out Locasta's book on soul-bonding and afterwords, devouring the pages of it by firelight, giving the occasional shudder or raised eyebrow of confusion.

When Oz returned several hours later, much more tired and ready for bed, he resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of Glinda passed out on a love seat with just a blanket around her shoulders and the book on love-making strewn in her lap. He marked the page she was on and tucked the book away before gathering her up and moving her to the bed once more, this time joining her beneath the blankets and curling himself around her.

* * *

Glinda gently shook China Girl's tiny shoulder the following morning, smiling softly as the little girl gave a tiny moan before blinking her eyes. "Good morning, sweetie."

"You're up before me?" The doll questioned in disbelief. "I think I'm still dreaming."

"Hey," The witch teased, poking the little girl's belly. "I'm capable of being a morning person every now and then. But a Queen should never have to rise unless she wants to."

"Then a princess can sleep in too, right?" China Girl questioned with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head and closing her eyes again.

"Sadly not today," Glinda responded, pulling her blanket down. "Time to get up. We've got a long day ahead of us." China Girl pouted, sighing as she sat up, her eyes downcast. "I know you're nervous, but we won't leave your side, I promise." She reached up and Glinda pulled her out of bed, snuggling her close, kissing her cheek. "You'll be okay."

"As long as you're with me."

Glinda helped the girl get dressed and packed a small suitcase for her to take for the weekend, then they were greeted by Oz. The family met with a team in the front of the Emerald City gates, a crew that would start removing the rubble after China Girl sorted through her own items and said her goodbyes to the place she'd grown up in.

She sat silently and stoically on Glinda's lap as they led the brigade of construction workers by carriage to the town some five hours away.

Oz met his future wife's gaze sadly, unsure of what he could say to cheer the little girl up. Surrendering any hope of comforting words, Oz gave Glinda a cheeky expression and began to sing a cheery song from his land, unable to hold back his laughter at his horrible, off-key tune. China Girl could only stare up at him, biting her lip to avoid mocking him, eventually giving in and falling over in Glinda's lap in a fit of giggles.

Their ride continued on with as much laughter as Oz could force out of his ladies, enjoying their company as they loomed closer to China Town. The little girl began to shake as they drove past the sign, causing Glinda to clutch her close. "It's okay, sweetie," The witch insisted. "It's alright."

They stopped the carriages before the first broken teapot house, the construction crew knowing to remain in theirs until the royal family returned from China Girl's home. "I-I don't want to," She whispered, turning to bury her face into Glinda's shoulder. "I don't really need my stuff."

"Sh, sh, I know it's hard. But you do want to collect the things that are important to you, the ones that remind you of your mother and papa." Oz took Glinda's free hand and led them to the place he'd found China Girl over a month earlier. At the sight of her broken home, China Girl cried loudly, clutching Glinda's dress collar and hiding her face. With the sight, Glinda felt tears running down her own face, sighing as to keep herself composed. "Take a moment, honey. Just breathe, little one."

They stood outside the shattered teapot, Oz's eyes examining the inside of it, noting a small wardrobe in a corner, toppled over, with little dresses sticking out. After allocating time for China Girl to calm herself, he took her from Glinda and set her on her feet, squatting down next to her. "Was this yours?"

"Mhm," She nodded, sniffing.

"Would you like it?"

"Mhm," She answered, and Oz lifted it, stuffing the clothes back in, setting it outside of the home.

She took a few brave steps forward and Glinda joined the two at their smaller height, watching with empty eyes as China Girl moved up the steps of the home, her little hands trembling. "What's up there?" She questioned, earning a sigh from the doll.

"My bedroom. There's some things I'd like in there."

The Wizard and his Queen waited patiently, offering the girl time. She came out with a tiny stuffed bear, pillow, and blanket. Glinda easily reached up and took them from the girl, encouraging her to find more. Seeing it was possible, China Girl started bringing toys out a few at a time, then scuffed her toe against the hard wood of the landing, wondering, "Could you reach in and grab my dollhouse? Or my desk? Or my rocking chair?"

More than willing, the two adults took out her requested items and packed them in the wardrobe, which was still light enough for Oz to carry.

When about forty minutes had passed, China Girl stepped carefully back down the steps, giving a sigh before taking one last look at the house. "I'd like to go now."

"Is there anything else you'd like to—"

"No, I'd like to go." She interrupted Glinda, her eyes pleading that she'd had more than enough. "Please?"

Glinda swallowed a growing lump in her throat and nodded, leaning over for a quick hug from Oz. He lifted the chest and set it in her arms, though heavy, it was manageable. He then bent down for China Girl, lifting her for the biggest snuggle she'd ever received, kissing her cheek. "Take care, kiddo. I'll see you tonight." He tucked her against Glinda's shoulder and asked, "You sure you'll be able to get back safely with that?"

She nodded and gave him a sad smile and in a flash, she and China Girl were sailing through space and back at the Emerald City. Glinda focused her energy on a safe landing, ensuring China Girl would land in one piece. Arriving in the little girl's chambers, Glinda set up the wardrobe next to the doll's bed, unloading it as the seven-year-old climbed back under the covers, pulling them over her face.

It was silent and Glinda felt incredibly awkward with no words for comfort — at least none the mourning orphan would want to hear. Just as she thought China Girl was sleeping, she heard a near whisper, "Could I have my bear?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Glinda agreed, finding it in the pile and moving over a bit to match China Girl's level, tucking the bear next to her in the bed. China Girl immediately latched onto it, cuddling it against her face, smiling softly at it. "Seems like you really missed it, huh?"

"My papa gave him to me. When Oz found me and we met you, it was the first night I'd ever slept without him. I didn't want to make a fuss because I was glad to be alive, but..."

The Queen traced the lines in China Girl's porcelain hair. "Well I'm glad you have him back. Does he have a name?"

"Just bear," China Girl shrugged.

"I see," Glinda sighed. "Is there anything I can do for you to help you feel better or take your mind off things? I'd love to read to you or go on a walk..."

China Girl raised her little shoulders again. "Maybe a story would be nice."

The two spent the afternoon reading and effectively distracting the animated girl from her earlier distress. By nightfall, both she and Glinda were curled up in a library chair, sound asleep from the long day.

Oz found them when he finally arrived back at the Palace at nearly midnight, China Girl on Glinda's chest, a hand over her eyes, while Glinda had one protectively wrapped around the doll and the other holding an open book.

He lifted China Girl as gently as he could not to wake her, but unfortunately caused Glinda to startle at the loss of the tiny body against hers.

"Sh, sh," Oz assured her as she blinked rapidly, a hand to her heart when she realized it was just her...fiancé? Were they engaged? They were to be married, so she assumed she could call him that. "I'm going to put her in bed," He mouthed, and the witch nodded, following him sleepily.

She yawned at every doorway it seemed until the little China princess was tucked soundly into bed and they were finally able to collapse in their own, Glinda unzipping her dress and sloppily tossing it off, not bothering to pull on sleep clothes. Oz took a moment to change his pants but joined her as soon as he could, groaning and nesting around her. "Crew's already started cleaning up the town. Saving as much of the original structures as possible. It's gonna look great in a few weeks...months, maybe. I hope China will be willing to come back and see it."

"In time," Glinda agreed. "It seems that's all any of us really need around here."

Ignoring the fact that the comment was obviously directed at his lack of jumping the gun for their wedding, Oz craned his neck to kiss Glinda's lips, sneaking a hand around her side before brushing her hair away from his face and curling up beside her, lacing one of her hands into his other one and letting sleep consume him after the day of a new beginning.


End file.
